


This Time Around

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Hints of past sebaciel, Like it's strong here but the main ship is gonna end up being Cielois, M/M, Reincarnation AU, Sebaciel if you squint I suppose, Summer Camp AU, now available with smut, probably the stupidest fic you'll ever read, smut in later chapters, witty chapter titles more like various pop culture references amirite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-20 09:02:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3644496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>16 year old Ciel is sent away for the summer, forced to interact with other rich kids whose parents wanted them gone. His roommate is far too excitable and one of the counselors rubs him the wrong way. How the hell is he going to survive the next few months?</p><p>Or: the one where Ciel dies, gets reincarnated, and Sebastian tries to get him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ciel, or The Confession Of A Bratty Teenage Goth Kid

Ciel Phantomhive hated many things, including (but not limited to) warm weather, children his own age, and forced interaction. Unfortunately, those were the pillars upholding the foundation of most summer camp values. It wasn’t like he wanted to be here in the first place, he would never consciously subject himself to the perky cheerfulness of underpaid young adults. He had no choice in the matter, otherwise he’d be in England. Instead, the plans he’d made to visit London for the first time were cut short due to an argument with his father.

It was unfair, but as Ciel watched the forest foliage pass through the window of his parents’ Jaguar he realized that there was really no more use in pouting about it. The driver wasn’t likely to tell his parents how distraught he seemed to be and even if he did, his parents weren’t likely to take any pity on him. He didn’t need their pity, he just needed an escape route from this idiotic display of the idealized American child’s summer. If he could deduct anything from the driver idly chatting away at him (despite the headphones blasting The Cure loud enough to nearly deafen the heir to the Phantomhives) as he continued down the gravel road wound between trees, it was that there really was no more cards to play sort of running away on foot; and he’d probably die before he made it home.

 _Perhaps it’d be worth it,_ the teenager thought as they pulled up to a cluster of colorfully painted buildings. Why was he being subjected to this? He was 16, nearly 17. In many countries, he was already a legal adult. Granted, he was blessed with the misfortune of being born in America where he was still nearly 2 years from being a certified ‘grown up.’ 

Two years was obviously far too long, he thought as his parents’ car crept up to a cluster of buildings crudely painted red. They looked more like barns used to house farm animals rather than teenagers with too much money on their hands. Ciel’s pointed nose wrinkled in disgust the more he thought about it. He was not cattle. He couldn’t speak for the rest of the campers- that term already made him want to gag- but he was definitely not some farm beast; despite his driver pulling up to the gate and glancing at him with an apologetic gaze.

Silent apologies weren’t enough, though. “Get my bags out of the trunk,” Ciel stated simply, remaining in his seat with his arms crossed as the elderly servant slipped out to do as he commanded. He was left to his own devices and took the last moment or two of silence to examine the piece of shit camp he was doomed to.

Disrespectful mockeries of native totem poles lined the archway entrance, which was really just braided twigs and branches. Beyond that was a dirt lot housing a flagpole, surrounded by other buildings that seemed to have been saved from the disgustingly tacky crimson paint of the actual cabins. The buildings were considerably larger, and Ciel could only guess at what they were used for. In all, he noted, it was just like the horribly shot films of his childhood had portrayed it to be.

“Sir,” Turning back to the driver’s seat, Ciel noticed that the driver had reappeared with the same pathetic frown, as if trying to apologize for doing his job. “Your bags are by the gate.”

“It’s a stupid excuse for a gate. How do they expect to keep anybody out?” Or in. They were all farm animals, after all. His rhetorical question went unanswered as he climbed out of the passenger’s side of the black car he arrived in. Moments later, the car was gone again, leaving Ciel on his own. He took a moment to scan over the camp one more time.

This time was different. He wasn’t behind tinted windows anymore, and now the entire group of campers and staff alike could return his disapproving stare. Why shouldn’t they? It wasn’t everyday that an undergrown goth kid with a non-aesthetic eye patch showed up on their doorstep. Unless it really was everyday, in which case Ciel should have no issue fitting in. As it so happened, though, all of the other children seemed to stare at him as though he was a hobo dressed as Ziggy Stardust. Or, at least, that was the way Ciel read the situation.

Determined to keep his pride, Ciel picked up the bag at his side and began walking towards the wide-eyed children and agitated-looking adults most likely dreading their paid interaction with him. “Hey there, camper!” an overly-bubbly woman greeted through a forced smile. Ciel wondered briefly if he could pay her to never speak to him again before offering a more convincing- though probably more forced- smile than hers.

“Hello. My name is-”

“Seal, right?” The girl hummed, eyes scanning the roster on the clipboard she held.

“It’s _Ciel_ , actually.” This girl wasn’t even trying, was she? Without commenting on how off-putting her perkiness was, the teenager kept his eye on her as she muttered a sorry- an unconvincing apology- and leafed through her clipboard papers.

“Ciel, right. You’re in cabin 8. Just go down the path right there and it should be the cabin closest to the craft barn.” Even the buildings’ names were reminiscent of farms. They really did see their patrons as cattle. Without a vocal response, Ciel started down the path that the girl had pointed out.

As he walked, a particular pattern of confused and amused stares made itself apparent to him, though he could understand everyone’s apprehension. He was born blind in one eye, giving it a milky color disfiguration; for this reason he wore an eye patch. If that wasn’t strange enough, the other campers all looked like happy-go-lucky souls in contrast to Ciel’s dark demeanor. After all, leather pants and heavy, black cotton shirts weren’t general summer apparel. Though he understood why the other teenagers were staring, he didn’t exactly appreciate it. Scowl in place, he sped up the pace to the cabin, nearly running into what he presumed to be a counselor.

“Forgive me,” the man said. It wasn’t the overly formal apology, nor the fact that Ciel had speed walked head on into this guy’s chest, but rather his silky voice was what made Ciel stop in his tracks, one foot extended before him. Wasn’t he a bit old to be teaching teenagers how to swim? Despite the general creepiness of a man in- what Ciel could only assume was- his mid twenties being present for a primarily teenager-based experience, the man was attractive. His features melded together perfectly from his proportionate nose to his crimson eyes an- why were his eyes red? The closer Ciel looked, the redder they became but in the end he supposed they could pass as a ruby-tinted brown. At least, that’s what he told himself. He didn’t bother to think about how they seemed almost familiar, as if he knew them from a past life.

After realizing that he was still standing around and staring at this stupidly attractive- albeit creepy- piece of shit, Ciel cleared his throat. “You’re fine. It’s fine. You’re too old to be a camper here.”

“I’m a counselor,” he answered simply, motioning to the nametag attached to the bright blue shirt donning the name of the camp. The sticker was akin to one that somebody might find on a waitress in training, framed in bright red with black, blocked lettering. ‘Hello! My name is-” followed by the neat scrawl of this man’s handwriting. “Sebastian Michaelis, at your service.”

“You sound eager to ‘service’ me,” Ciel scoffed, narrowing his eyes. “It’s not the 19th century anymore, you don’t need to be so cordial.” The overly chivalrous attitude only made Sebastian creepier, if that was possible.

Sebastian seemed to go unfazed by the bitter tone of Ciel’s voice, and offered a stale- albeit polite- smile as if he‘d dealt with it a million times before, though the younger male pacified that thought with, _he’s probably had to deal with a lot of bitchy campers._

“I apologize. As your counselor, is there anything I can do for you?” In response, Ciel motioned down the path. 

“Carry my bag to cabin eight,” he demanded, curious of whether Sebastian would actually do it or not. Uncertainty flashed over Sebastian’s face, though his eyes suggested he was amused.

“Is that… Is that an order?”

Without missing a beat, Ciel answered “Yes.” Oh god, this was gold.

“So you’re saying you order me to carry your bag.”

“Are you deaf? That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Sebastian still didn‘t pick up the bag. “Why not tell me precisely what-”

“Oh my god, this isn’t even amusing anymore!” Turning on his heel, Ciel grabbed up his suitcase and started down the path again, silently wondering what the fuck was wrong with that man. How on earth did he ever get a job here? There was no way in hell he’d never been incarcerated for stalking, or something far worse. However, looking at his face had made Ciel feel a strange nostalgia, a sense of memory he’d long since forgotten. The feeling of familiarity made him uncomfortable. Thinking about the eerie encounter left little room for Ciel to notice the growing sound of upbeat music with foreign vocals.

In fact, he hardly noticed it until he was standing in the doorway of cabin eight, doing a double take to the sign above the door. There was no way that this was his room. It couldn’t be. He refused to believe that his roommate was currently dancing around to something out of a French 60s art film.

Before him was a thin blonde, probably a male, with their back turned, hips rotating in time with the perky, upbeat music. The other’s shorts just hardly peeked out from under the baggy camp shirt, the same design as Sebastian’s. God, what the hell was wrong with the people here? Was the eye patched goth kid the only sane one residing in camp Wannatouchadick (or whatever knockoff Native American name it had)?

After the French girl on the record finished a lyric with a flourish, the blonde turned around and clapped his hands together, catching what bit of Ciel’s attention that he didn’t hold before. “Ole! Oh, hello.”

“You know, Ole is Spanish, not French,” Ciel retorted, suspiciously glancing at his roommate, mirroring the same reading look as the blonde scanning his body. “I take it we’re rooming together.”

“Looks like it!” Man, this guy was cheerful. Stepping to the bottom bunk (their entire cabin to themselves and they had bunk beds. Beautiful.), the boy sighed and took a seat. Crossing his skinny legs, he offered a hand and a smile in Ciel’s direction. “I’m Alois.”

“Ciel,” the other replied, ignoring the outstretched hand and setting his suitcase against the wall at the foot of the bed, cornered against one of the pale wooden slats. The frame seemed to be relatively new in contrast to the aged copper wallpaper. The entire cabin’s décor was too bright, it was beginning to make Ciel’s head hurt. Here and there were motivational posters and felt flowers put in vases above their dressers in some sort of attempt at decoration. _Why,_ Ciel wondered. _There’s plenty of real flowers outside._

As he began crawling up the ladder to the top bunk, which he absolutely detested, Ciel heard Alois begin talking. “Ciel,” he repeated, testing the boy’s name on his tongue. “Hm. What’s with the eye patch?”

Well, this kid had no chill. Frowning at the ceiling, Ciel ran his fingertips over the silk cloth covering his eye. “I was born blind and the color freaks people out sometimes,” he replied honestly. Why lie about it? Beneath his bunk, Ciel could feel Alois shift around.

“So you can’t even see what I look like? Man, that explains why you’re dressed like-”

“It’s only in the one eye,” he hissed in response. With a sigh, Ciel slipped his eye shut and listened to the song as it changed in the record player. The tune was the polar opposite of what Ciel liked to listen to, and still it only seemed to get louder and louder. The lyrics were still French. Below him, Ciel could feel the vibrations of Alois tapping his foot in tune while he hummed along. The bunk rocked with the motion and Ciel’s frown deepened in irritation.

Halfway through the song, Ciel craned his body over the side of the bunk and narrowed his eye at Alois. “Do you even speak French?”

“Not a word!” the boy hummed, arms crossed over the pillow behind his head. “But this music is cheerful and upbeat. I appreciate it.”

“You’re pretentious.”

“And you’re short, what’s your point?”

Ciel’s frown deepened at that response, and at the sudden shift in his tone, now just as cold and icy as his arctic blue irises. “Since I’m so short, you won’t mind switching bunks, would you?”

Alois pressed his index finger to the tip of his chin and opened his eyes, pouting as though he was thinking about it. “Mmh… No, not happening.”

“Excuse me?”

“I was here first. Besides, the bottom bunk is so much more comfortable. Perhaps if you were willing to convince me, though…”

Ciel arched an eyebrow and sat straight up to stop the ballooning feeling of blood rushing to his head. He crawled off of the bunk then stood before Alois, hands on his hips. “What do you mean?”

“Deserts for a week.”

“My deserts?”

Alois affirms with a single nod and crosses his arms behind his head once more. “Yes. Your deserts for a week will get you the bottom bunk for the entire summer.”

On one hand, Ciel’s favorite thing in the world was sugar filled sweets. On the other, it was only a week as compared to the entire summer. Then again, his pride was wounded by thinking about it, and his pride was everything, something his father taught him at an early age. After a long moment of thinking about how angry he was at his father, he decided that the most spiteful thing he could do to ’Daddie Dearest’ would be to throw his pride away for a bed. “Fine. Five days, that’s a business week and the most I’m willing to do.”

“I can live with that!” Sitting up, Alois stretched and sighed happily as he swung his legs of and stood. He was a good three inches taller than Ciel, but also a good deal thinner. Ciel glanced over the other boy, hands still on his hips. He wasn’t unattractive, quite the opposite actually, and still, Ciel had the urge to punch him in the jaw; especially as the blonde bent down slightly, smirking as his face came inches from Ciel’s. “I prefer top anyway.”

The song shifted again, to what Ciel could recognize as some Brigitte Bardot tune about Harley Davidson. Deciding that he sort of hated his roommate, Ciel sat on the bottom bunk and pulled out his headphones. “I want to murder you in your sleep,” he clarified before replacing Alois’ ye-ye music with Depeche Mode. This was going to be a long summer.

 

 

 

 


	2. A Long(ish) Winded History Of The Demon Formerly Known As Ciel Phantomhive

“This is all wrong!” Ciel screamed as a dish went flying past Sebastian’s head, just hardly missing him. Nonetheless, his butler submissively bowed and apologized.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “I’ll do better next time.”

“It doesn’t matter how well you do,” Ciel retorted, breathing heavily after the screaming episode beforehand. Leaning on his arms against the post of a bed he never used, he turned to glare at the older demon. “I can’t taste anything.”

“As is customary-”

“Oh shut up. I’m dead, customs no longer matter to me.” Hoisting himself off of the footboard supporting him, Ciel took a breath and put his hands on his hips. “I’m constantly bored now and you’re as irritating as ever.”

_Irritating?_ Sebastian wondered, unreasonably angered by the statement. Ciel had been a demon for nearly a year now, and Sebastian still couldn’t understand him. He had learned how to deal with human Ciel, the soft and still growing brat who called upon him for help, but now that he’d crossed the threshold into demon hood he’d become nearly unbearable. Be that as it may, Sebastian still held a certain tender fondness towards him.

It was no secret that Sebastian Michaelis was in love with his young master, though his feelings could hardly be construed as romantic. Everyone had seen it while the boy was alive, and when they crossed into the human realm to eat together people often mistook them for father and son, siblings, sometimes even lovers. Their relationship remained the same way, despite the assumptions of strangers; ambiguous and existing without definition. But even the strongest of bonds aren’t argument-free, and whatever emotions he’d let himself feel for the boy were clouded now by irrational fury.

“Irritating?” Sebastian hissed, narrowing his eyes at the black-blue haired child. “Day in and day out, I take care of you. I feed you before you even know you‘re hungry, I‘ve been taking care of you since we made that damned contract and-”

“Do not presume to speak to me in such a manner, dog.”

“No, you’re going to listen well, my little lord. I’m finished being a dutiful pawn in the game you’ve since been disqualified from. I have no reason to stay with you anymore.”

“Then go,” Ciel demanded, though Sebastian caught the way he cringed as he said it. Half of him wanted to pull Ciel into his arms and apologize for speaking to him in such a manner, but the other half, the more dominant half, only grew angrier with the proud boy before him. Red hot irritation bubbled within the depths of Sebastian’s stomach, boiling a sickeningly bitter feeling upwards. He could feel it crawling from his throat and taking on the personification of words.

“Listen to me, you damn brat,” Ciel’s face dropped. Sebastian nearly felt bad for taking joy in the shocked expression, but his annoyance got the better or his emotions. “I’ve had it with you! You and all of your complaining and constant whining. I’m not even getting anything out of this deal anymore!”

The venom behind and in Sebastian’s words left Ciel fighting to keep a hurt expression from his features. Still reeling, he managed a reply. “Nothing?” Oh, the little demon sounded hurt. Good. A blow to his pride would probably do him good. Collecting his pride, Ciel’s face hardened once more as well as his voice. “If you get _nothing_  out of this anymore, why are you still here?!”

Sebastian didn’t have an answer. Narrowing his eyes towards the older demon, Ciel’s entire stance changed. His arms crossed and the other couldn’t help but compare him to an angry housewife. It was a ridiculous notion, no housewife would be as bossy as the Earl Phantomhive unless they wanted a divorce. After a few long, excruciating moments, Ciel spoke. “Fuck off. And get out of my room. That’s an order.”

Clenching his jaw, Sebastian gave a nod. “Yes, my lord,” he spat through his teeth before turning and leaving the room. How dare that little bastard? After everything Sebastian had ever done for him? For the most part, he still had to wipe the brat’s ass. Day in, day out it was always “Sebastian do this” and “Sebastian get me that.” He couldn’t handle an eternity of this without becoming even more miserable than he was the night he learned he and Ciel’s inevitable fate together. He’d never taste the sweet ambrosia of the boy’s ripened soul, and he was stuck being his caretaker to boot.

There had to be some way they could get along with one another. It wasn’t for lack of trying on Sebastian’s part. He’d remained ever the faithful servant, until tonight when Ciel’s constant bitching had finally become overwhelming. Humans were insects, and it was painfully obvious that Ciel was clinging to the fabric of his humanity, refusing to let go lest he let himself fall from it. Sebastian had to admit he had quite the willpower, but it was no use if he was an ant in a god’s body. He’d have to cut Ciel free from his humanity, Sebastian realized. He’d have to break him down and force him to leave his human life behind once and for all.

He decided that he‘d do it in the morning and if he decided that Ciel couldn‘t he helped, he’d break the contract. There was no way in hell that Sebastian would put up with this for eternity, no matter the bond between them. As he said earlier, he really wasn’t going to benefit anyway.

After he was in his room for a few hours, book in hand, he thought that perhaps he was out of line. No, no, he was definitely out of line for speaking to his master in such a manner. Young demons still had a tenancy to savor their humanity, whether they meant to or not. Ciel was likely missing his old life, transitioning if you will. As stupid as it sounded, Sebastian thought that maybe he needed some support and instead he lost his temper with the brat- or something stupid like that. And on that note, how was it that a remark made a million times before was what made Sebastian snap? He’d let his butler aesthetic waver, and that was unforgivable.

Some people can recall precisely what they were doing when tragedy struck, and Sebastian was one of those people. He’d tell you that he was at the foot of the stairs when the seal on his hand began burning, a sting excruciating enough to make him feel pain; to cry out in surprise. By the time he made it to Ciel’s door, his hand had stopped glowing, and was back to looking more like an intricate tattoo than a demonic beacon. Throwing the door open, he swore his heart would have stopped if it was beating.

Ciel’s lifeless body hung limp and comatose at the foot of the bed where he’d yelled at Sebastian earlier. After rushing to his side, Sebastian tried to shake him awake, tried to string together a sentence of profanities and pleas convincing enough to wake Ciel. It wasn’t unlike Ciel trying to wake Sebastian during that sham of a party, when that writer shared his bed (igniting Sebastian‘s jealousy) and Sebastian faked his own death. It seemed so long ago, but the boy was still as small and frail as ever. The roles had been reversed and it wasn’t until Ciel’s face was wet with the older demon’s tears that he realized he was crying. He wanted to mock himself, like he wanted to mock Ciel many times throughout their existence together. This was stupid. He was being stupid. Knowing that didn’t stop the steady flow of stupidity disguised as emotion.

It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Often, humans who were turned to demons simply couldn’t adjust properly and they died. It wasn’t unnatural, but it also wasn’t expected. Within a few days, Sebastian was back to a functioning state, though he was more than confused. He was stuck in the shape that Ciel had given him the night they met. The symbol on his hand was still there; nearly as if Ciel was still alive and floating through his demon life with ease. If he hadn’t sensed the death emanating from the boy’s body, he might actually believe that.

There had to be something wrong. There had to be a technical difficulty. Something had to be done, but a hundred years of searching for answers proved a dismal failure. There was nothing Sebastian could do. In every religion he found, ancient and modern, there was no explanation. He’d exhausted himself in search of an explanation only for it to prove fruitless.

He’d fallen into something close to a depression, only more angry. He felt betrayed. He felt wronged by the universe; and that betrayal faded into a bitter hatred. First, he was denied a meal that he’d groomed into a ripened perfection over years, was forced into serving his meal for eternity. He loved Ciel’s entity, then it was brutally ripped away from him. Worse than that, he’d had everything taken from him and he was stuck in a _human body._  He had been broken down to an insect, nothing more than grime on the boot-heel that was once his own.

Society grew around him. He watched chivalry die and technology spring to life. In the winter of 1999, Sebastian did as he usually did and walked among the nightlife of earth, looking for a cheap deal to make. Seattle, London, Paris, Berlin, repeat. Large cities were all the same save for landmarks and they were all crawling with lost souls begging for a deal. “Make me beautiful.”

“Make me rich.”

“Make me famous.”

Give me fulfillment in place of my soul.

December 14th, Sebastian found himself outside of a gay bar, hidden away in an alley as he discussed a short term contract with a man who wanted nothing more than to be rich. His soul was one that wasn’t going to be delicious like Ciel’s, one that would be consumed within a week or two and keep him sustained until the next poor sap who wanted life’s better simplicities.

The man talked and talked, Sebastian found. He didn’t shut up for a moment in between stories of his life. He was raised in the ghetto, he was beaten as a child, this that and the other thing. He whined on and on about the horrors of his boring little life until he finally shut up long enough for Sebastian to make a deal.

But the strangest thing happened just as he was about to place the contract. His hand began to burn. Something he hadn’t felt in 111 years, since the Faustian mark stopped glowing and Ciel left his existence. Sebastian lifted his head and gazed to the sky, watching a flake of snow as it gently began floating down to earth. Then another. And another.

“Oi bruv, can we ‘urry this up a bit I got-”

“He isn’t in England.”

“Who?”

A laugh escaped Sebastian’s throat, an overjoyed gust of relief, the most emotion he’d shown since crying for Ciel. “He’s alive. Oh god, I still have a chance.” As he disregarded the man calling out behind him, Sebastian ran. Within an hour, he was in America. Who would have thought that Ciel Phantomhive would have been reborn in Los Angeles to a couple of millionaires? Who would have thought that he’d be named Ciel Phantomhive a second time around? And who in the world would have thought that he’d be born with an oddly shaped birthmark on his lower-left back and blind in his right eye, which displayed a milky white film over the admiral blue iris.

Sebastian stood before the infant’s crib just after he and his parents had drifted off into a slumber. This was what Sebastian had always thought Ciel would look like as a newborn. Leaning over the edge of his cradle, he observed the similarities; just like looking back in time. Dark hair. Pale skin. Even the shape of his lips, however immature, was the same. The demon’s fingers gently caressed over the plump cheek of his face, then danced along the fingertips he half expected to be black in color.

“My little lord. I thought you were tiny when we met. How wrong I was,” he muttered to the sleeping infant, stroking his hair almost affectionately. The baby began to shift, cooing beneath his breath. A low whine left his lips, and his eyes slowly began to open. Crimson irises caught with mismatched blues and stayed locked in hopes that he’d reestablish the deal beforehand. He willed the Faustian mark to replace the discoloration, for his hand to begin burning again.

Nothing happened.

“Shit,” Sebastian murmured with a sigh, shaking his head. “I suppose this will have to wait until you’re older and actually have the mental capacity to make a wish, won’t it?” As if replying, the baby cooed and his arms began to flick sporadically. “I could crush you right now. I never thought I’d see the Earl Phantomhive in such a vulnerable position.”

Another coo and some spit bubbles. After assuring that he would never lose Ciel again, Sebastian left the way he came in. Crawling through the window, then gracefully dropping to the ground, Sebastian fled into the night, excited for the years to come.

-

“How dare you! Do you know who I am?!” Ciel shouted to a fellow classmate, ignoring the notebooks at his feet. Sebastian watched from the shadows as he often did, keeping an eye on the safety of his soon-to-be young master. “I am Ciel Phantomhive and my family could buy and sell you twice over!” The demon quietly wondered if Ciel had been like this before their meeting in the past, if the old Ciel Phantomhive had been as bratty and proud as his teenage counterpart.

The boy shoved him down and Sebastian had to refrain from making his presence known. After a few unjust words from the bigger boy, the school bell rang and he left Ciel sitting on the ground, collecting his papers with drawings of birds and cats. He catches a glimpse of a spider and it vaguely alarms him, reminds him of Claude, but memory confirms that there’s nothing to worry about since the other demon is dead.

Stepping out from behind the tree once the playground was vacant, Sebastian knelt to help Ciel gather his things, earning a blank stare from the child. “Who the hell are you?”

“Such language from a little boy. How old are you?”

“How old are _you_ , geezer?”

“I’m over a thousand years old,” the other replied, handing the boy his things. _Didn’t they teach him not to talk to strangers? At this rate he’ll be dead or kidnapped again before he’s ready to make another deal,_  “Children can be so cruel. Are you alright?”

It took a second for Ciel to realize he wasn’t praising his own insult, but rather commenting on the scene beforehand. Having been seen in such a state, he blushed and snatched the notebook from Sebastian’s hand. “I’m fine. Daddy says I’m in first grade now so I’m growing up and shouldn’t be upset, so I’m not.”

“You seem to have a lot of trust in your father,” Sebastian began to say, though he was interrupted by the late bell ringing and Ciel running off without so much as a goodbye.

That was the last time he interacted with Ciel for an entire decade. Ten years later, the boy tried to blackmail his father into sending him to England, but instead he was sent to a Californian summer camp where Sebastian promptly got a job.

While he’d been expecting to meet Ciel here, he wasn’t expecting the boy to literally run directly into him. “Forgive me,” he immediately apologized fighting the overjoyed smirk from his lips.

_Well,_ he thought. _I see he’s still rocking the bratty pirate look._


	3. I’ve Been Here Three Days And Alois Trancy is The Bane Of My Existence by Fall out Boy ft. Ciel Phantomhive

Ciel had been at the camp now for three days, each shared in company with the blonde boy who slept above him. It wasn’t that he was a terrible person, he just rubbed Ciel the wrong way and did things that were beyond annoying. He played his foreign music too loud, he shifted around a lot during the night, he often said things that made Ciel wonder if Alois was completely insane.

He seemed to be angry about a great deal of things, Ciel observed, but instead of overtly throwing a fit the way people usually did, he would become sarcastic and treat it as though it was a joke. It was painfully obvious that Alois didn’t take himself seriously, nor anybody or anything else for that matter; that was what irritated Ciel the most about the blonde. It fathomed him that there were people like Alois who existed, who could be so angry at the world and yet force themselves not to care because it was all a joke anyway. Everything was a joke. Today was no exception.

Ciel woke up to the usual sound of trumpets blaring just outside of his window, with the thin veil of static from the speakers playing them. With a groan he forced himself to sit up and reach for his eye patch, only to find it wasn’t where he left it. Panic seized him by the throat because fuck, he really didn’t feel like explaining all day; and in the midst of insecurity overtaking him Alois clears his throat from beside his stupid fucking record player.

Turning where he sat, Ciel kept his right eye closed and the other narrowed angrily in the blonde’s direction. “Alois…”

“You know, I’ve never seen you without this thing. Let me see your eye.”

“What the hell is wrong with you!?”

“I’m curious, so sue me.” The smirk at his lips suggested that he thought of this as some sort of game, a game of ‘how badly can I piss off my roommate before he kills me.’ So far, he’s winning.

“Alois,” Ciel hissed through clenched teeth. “Give me my eye patch. Now.”

There was a tense moment between blue eyes glaring against one another.

Alois looked amused, smirking delightedly, one hand on his hips and the other dangling the black fabric from his fingers.

Ciel looked ready to strike, angry and irritated by the sleep still burning his eyes.

Finally, after it was made apparent that Ciel wasn’t going to give on this particular situation, the blonde sighed and dropped his arm. “Fine, you win. Here,” he huffed, tossing it to Ciel and turning his attention to his record player. “You’re boring me anyhow.”

After catching the eye patch, Ciel tied it on as he spoke. “Boring? Stealing somebody’s daily wear is your source of entertainment?” Unfortunately, his words fell on ears deafened by a French girl singing about Paul McCartney and her g-g-g-generation. He decided to leave well enough alone and start out to the mess hall for breakfast before he ended up wringing Alois’ neck.

As soon as Ciel stepped into the open air, he felt a bit freer, as though he could breathe for the first time since waking up; or rather since he saw Alois that morning. He didn’t hate the blonde, but the stint he’d pulled that morning was ridiculous. “Curious,” he’d said. As Ciel recalled the event, it stopped becoming a question of “What’s wrong with him,” and became an issue of “What is he so curious about?” and “Why is he so curious about it?”

“Good morning, Phantomhive.” Oh great. Then there was this guy. With a sigh, Ciel turns to glance at the source of the all-too familiar voice. Yep. It was Sebastian alright.

“Good morning, dog.”

“Dog. That’s new.” Ciel took note of the tone, almost bordering on sarcasm and yet not quite there. If it was sarcasm, he didn‘t hint towards it as he walked beside Ciel at the younger boy’s pace, much to the latter’s annoyance.

“Are you going to continue hanging around me like a fly to a pile of garbage?”

“You’re the garbage here, I presume.” Ciel definitely didn’t think that one through. With a huff, he steps inside of the mess hall just in time for Alois to catch up to him.

“What sort of desert are we having today?” the blonde asks, not that it really matters much to Ciel. A deal is a deal, after all, and he’d given away his right to desserts for the bottom bunk.

He ignored Sebastian’s answer in favor of walk into the food line. Unfortunately for him, Alois was right behind him, hot on his heels to talk about how amazing desert was going to be, and about how they should sit together again (Ciel would rather have died, honestly). He remained silent through the line, and silent until they found the only table that wasn’t aloud with irritatingly perky teenagers or children. Two available seats, one right beside the other. Ciel accepted his fate and sat on the outside, anticipating his blonde roommate to steal the other.

Miraculously, just before Alois sat down, the seat beside Ciel was filled by a larger, slightly more ominous feeling figure. Casting a glance from the corner of his good eye, Ciel established that it was Sebastian. Great. Two of his least favorite people to date, and he had to choose which was the lesser evil; the phsycotic roommate or the creepy- possibly dangerous- camp counselor. At least if Sebastian stays seated beside him, he won’t be forced into giving Alois his dessert. Thinking this over, he says nothing, and the blonde eventually makes his way to a different seat. If Ciel didn’t know any better, the other seemed to pout as he left. How tragic. He does kind of feel bad, though.

Then again, since when does Ciel Phantomhive have feelings? Shoving that shit down, the boy turned to the elder, unwrapping the Cosmic Brownie from it’s cellophane prison. “Can I ask why you’re sitting here?” he demanded, eye on his food. He took a bite and Jesus Christ, it tasted like God’s cum. That is to say, very good. It tasted very, VERY good.

“I have the freedom to sit here. This is America, after all.”

“You hardly sound American,” Ciel observed, taking another bite of his food. “England?” Sebastian gave a nod and the other had to stop himself from demanding to know everything in excruciating detail. “That’s interesting,” he says with a shrug. “I‘ve always wanted to go. Tell me about it.”

The taller male took a bite of his own food, a pondering thought personifying on his face. “Well, there’s not much to tell. I used to work for a large company owner, I was his butler.” Ciel could see it, the mental image of Sebastian as a butler was far too clear for his liking.

“Right, I‘m sure you were terrible at your job. What was he like?”

Ciel could have sworn that Sebastian’s scarlet eyes glimmered- a flash of mischief exploding before receding again. “He was very young, had seen some terrible things, had terrible injustice done to him.”

“That’s not what I wanted to know, but do go on. What were these injustices?”

“You’d probably know better than I would.”

“Why do you assume that?” Ciel asks, wondering what Sebastian could have possibly meant, but the other man merely shakes his head.

“Victim of the times sort of thing.”

“What are you implying?”

Before Sebastian could respond, Alois returned to take up a now-free seat across from Ciel. For a moment, he wondered if he had been waiting for an opening. _Probably,_  he thought silently, bringing a spoonful of canned gruel to his lips. _The damn kid clings to my side as much as possible._

“You two seem to be getting rather close,” the blonde observed. He seemed a bit more calm than he was during the incident that took place in the morning, as though it hadn‘t happened, as though Ciel had imagined all of it. Taking another bite of his now half-eaten brownie, Ciel wonders if perhaps the décor of his room was making him go crazy. He wouldn’t be surprised at all.

“I should be off,” Sebastian sighed, standing and leaving Alois‘ inquiry unanswered. “I have to teach a swimming class in about ten minutes.”

“Don’t drown anybody,” Ciel prompted through a mouth full of food, earning a low chuckle from Sebastian.

“I won’t make any promises.” As he walked away, Alois shifted in his seat, taking a bite of the fruit cup on his tray.

“Isn’t it illegal to make jokes about that?” Ciel admitted that while Alois had a point, he wasn’t about to comment. “By the way, what happened to your dessert-”

“Look at the time, would you?” Ciel interrupted, standing quickly with his tray in hand. “It’s about time for the first activity for the day and boy am I eager.”

“Liar,” Alois laughed, shaking his head. Much to Ciel’s discontentment, the blonde quickly reached up and grabbed the half brownie from his tray. “Have fun braiding friendship bracelets.”

That’s how the rest of the day went for Ciel. He did as he was instructed, not without complaint, and tried to collect his thoughts. He didn’t exactly go out of his way to avoid Sebastian or Alois, but he didn’t run into them much either. The most he saw of Sebastian was a glance at him by the water, telling some child, roughly five or six years old, that they were going to drown if they didn’t start paying attention, to which the child started crying.

Throughout the day, Ciel braided bracelets, pretended to be interested in bird watching, and did his best to grin and bear the grueling task of being a camper. There was even an instance where one counselor, a redheaded girl with an overbite, tried to get him to go swimming, to which he replied “Go fuck yourself.” All the while, he thought about that conversation with Sebastian.

“You’d probably know better than I would.”

“Victim of the times.” Was that supposed to be a Clockwork Orange reference? What was it that Ciel was supposed to know? Finally, he got the chance to sneak away from some stupid hike his group was supposed to go on and threw himself into his bunk. Never had the metallic springs jutting into his back felt so good, and never had he been so grateful for the camp activities distracting Alois long enough for him to drift off into a peaceful sleep.

At least, his sleep started out peaceful enough. Memories, he supposed, of his parents.

_Aside from their clothing (which now looked dated) he recognized the happy, affectionate gestures they made as they picked him up, as they kissed his plump, rosy cheeks. He missed them. He wasn’t homesick, that wasn’t the feeling blossoming in the pit of his stomach as he watched this memory like an old home-movie. No, it was much deeper than that. He missed them as though he’d never see them again, as if he was certain about that._

_But why?_

_His parents set him down and motion to a butterfly as it flutters past, vibrant blue wings dancing against the wind as it escapes him. He’s young here, but he can take a hint. Rushing towards the butterfly, he leaves his parents’ sides. He runs farther and farther away, bare feet pounding on the soft, green grass until he finally grasps it, cupping it between his tiny hands. With a proud grin, he turns on his heel to boast to his parents._

_“Look, I got it!” he calls to empty air, before realizing they aren’t where they’d been standing when he left. Instead, there’s footprints, ash and soot smudging the ground in two separate trails with the same destination. “Mom? Dad?” he unclasps his hands to free the butterfly, only to find it isn’t there anymore. It’s disappeared, abandoned him._

_Confused, Ciel follows the footsteps. It’s not like there’s much else he can do at this point, he has to find his parents and tell them of the butterfly‘s betrayal. He shuffles along, between the paths of soot left by his mother and father. He walks and walks until finally, the footprints stop and Ciel finds himself standing at the foot of a porch. The material is made of fine stone, and it’s large, and it’s extravagant._

_“Mom?” he croaks, chancing a look upwards. All at once, he wishes that he hasn’t. Flames engulf the house, a mansion that he’s seen one too many times, and yet never seen before. “Mom! Dad!” he screams, hoping that they’d emerge from the fire, that they’d be perfectly fine and whisk him away from this destruction, that they’d comfort and coddle him._

_Then there’s a hand on his shoulder, and a silky voice whispering to him. “What is it that you wish?” Ciel knows that voice. He’s come to know it so well in the last few days- no, in the last few years. He turns slowly, but just before he can catch the man’s face, everything comes to a screeching halt._

Woken up by Alois’ tossing above him, Ciel opened his eyes with a gasp. “Shit,” he breathed, sitting up and hanging his head into his hands. _What the hell was that,_ he wondered, shuddering. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember what that dream was about. The only thing he remembered was fire enveloping a house that he swore was his, but now that he was awake, he easily remembered his own house and realized how silly he was being.

Lifting his head, Ciel squinted against the light shining through the cabin windows. How long had he been asleep? Evidently, long enough for Alois to have finished his activities the day before, get a full night’s sleep, wake up to the trumpet recording just as Ciel got his eye patch on.

“How long’ve you been up?” the blonde asked, climbing down from the top bunk. He yawned and Ciel wondered briefly how he knew he’d been awake. More importantly, why wasn’t he being obnoxious yet, he‘d been awake for at least twenty seconds, a new record for one Alois.

“Just a minute or two before the alarm went off,” he answered, pulling himself out of his own bed. From the dresser beneath his record player, Alois hummed and then remained silent. It was strange, Ciel realized. Alois wasn’t chattering away, and he wasn’t playing his god-awful music. After a few beats of silence with Alois’ back turned, Ciel finally asked, “Are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he asked in a flat tone, as though he’d actually just been through the most traumatizing night he’d ever had to endure. Not once did he stop sifting through the clothes in his drawers.

“I don’t know,” Ciel answered, walking to his own dresser though he kept his eyes on Alois’ back. “You just don’t seem like yourself today.”

“Oh, what do you care!?” Though he seemed to burst, and he angrily shoved a pair of shorts back into his drawer, Alois’ back remained turned to a very stunned Ciel. “We don’t get along! At all! You think I’m obnoxious and I think you-”

“I don’t _think_ you’re obnoxious, you _are_ obnoxious!” Ciel defended, frowning. “See if I ever ask about your wellbeing again,”

“I just had a weird dream is all, I’m fine!” Alois demanded, turning to face Ciel. As far as he could tell, there wasn’t anything entirely different about the blonde, physically speaking. He felt strangely comforted by that. Still, Ciel was annoyed beyond reason, and, admittedly, a little bit pissed at his roommate.

“Oh, did you have a nightmare?” he mocked, arms crossing over his chest, though he knew he wasn’t one to talk after the dream he’d had. “Let me guess, everyone stopped paying attention to you in your dream and it terrified you.”

“Fuck off, Phantomhive!” Alois yelled, narrowing his eyes in the other’s direction.

It isn’t until after Ciel screams “Fuck you, Trancy!” that he realized they’d never exchanged last names. Judging by the softened, though confused, way Alois’ face dropped, the blonde realized it too. Suddenly entirely too uncomfortable, Ciel hurried to remove himself from the situation. “I’m going to breakfast,” he stated, not even bothering to wait for a reply before he left the cabin, wondering what the actual fuck just happened.


	4. That One Time Alois Almost (Inadvertently) Killed Ciel (again)

Sebastian watched as Ciel went from perturbed over the conversation that took place with Alois, back to being annoyed with his life. Watching the teenager through his transition of (mostly repressed) emotions was amusing to him, just like it had been when the boy was alive, walking through life with all the nobility that the heir of Phantomhive possibly could possess. Often, Sebastian missed those times, the days when he still had the promise of Ciel’s soul to drive him forward. It was all so simple, he used to think. He’d devour the soul promised to him and then move on to the next meal.

Of course, as luck would have it, things were not so simple. He’d gone from being one of the most feared demons ever to lurk the astral plane, instilling fear into all who saw his true form, to being nearly human. Word had indeed traveled fast, and over the course of years he’d become one of the most pitied, if not mocked inhabitants outside of the human realm.

Succubi and seraphim alike would gossip about that poor soulless creature who was cheated out of his meal and his eternity. His name, his real name, unpronounceable to any human was on the tongue of each immortal being from Hell to Kingdom Come. It was ridiculous, he would think, that even reapers would find a laugh in his story, like human teenagers trying to one up one another with who could tell the most ridiculous story about a friend or fellow classmate.

 _No more,_ he thought, eyes locked onto Ciel as the boy retorted some venomous comeback to a judgmental counselor‘s criticism. _Ciel Phantomhive’s soul will be mine, this time around._

“Hey, yo, Bassy,” the counselor had called, hands on his hips. Wincing at the name, Sebastian lifted his head. “Come take my place before I absolutely lose it with this kid, man.”

“Please don’t call me that,” Sebastian sighed as he approached, recalling images of Grell. The other counselor (rather rudely) walked away without replying, but Ciel instantly saw an opening in the short lived exchange.

“Bassy, huh? I like it.”

“Please no.”

“No what, Bassy? I don’t think I’m doing anything wrong. Just givin’ my old friend Bassy here a nickname.” Ciel taunted, smirking up at the taller man. All at once, Sebastian was reminded why eternity with this brat was worse than hell (and take it from him, Hell was a pretty awful place, even for the demons that roamed about and ruled there).

“What do I have to do to make you stop calling me that?” Sebastian asked, frowning at the teenager.

Ciel seemed to think it over, glancing his eyes skyward as an index finger tapped his chin. His face was the epitome of thoughtfulness and yet Sebastian was sure he‘d already made up his mind. “Liquor,” the boy said, turning his gaze back to the demon.

“Excuse me?”

“Sneak me in some liquor and _Bassy_ will be a thing of the past, never mentioned again.” That is, until he wanted something else, Sebastian was sure. He pretended to think it over, deciding that Ciel could stand a few seconds of impatience. When did he start drinking, anyway? During his first life, he rarely drank for fun.

“I think I can arrange something. I’ll hide it in your dresser drawer when I get it, and you‘ll never refer to me as ‘Bassy‘ again. Does that sound like a fair trade?”

“It does,” Ciel replies absently. “Anyway, I’d like to be excused.”

“From what? You’re hardly _doing_  anything.”

:I’m supposed to be doing archery but I don’t have the best aim.” Ciel replied, his tone flat and bored.

“Why not do something else? There’s plenty to choose from. Swimming-”

“I hate swimming.”

“Dancing-”

“Can’t dance worth a shit.”

“Running-”

“I have asthma.”

“Who has asthma?” Of course, of all times, Alois would show up now. Sebastian had since learned that the blonde had a bad habit of interrupting, but at this rate he was sure he’d never have a confidential conversation (let alone forge a contract) with Ciel in private.

As it was, he wasn’t entirely sure how Alois Trancy had been reincarnated. He’d witnessed the consumption of his soul, seen with his own eyes what should have been the end of the young blonde. His essence shouldn’t have been recycled, it’d been completely destroyed. He shouldn’t have been there at all.

The shock alone of seeing him, let alone seeing him _alive,_ was enough to make Sebastian feel it. Just like the pain on his hand the night Ciel died the first time, just like the swelling feeling of relief when Ciel was reborn, he shouldn’t have felt it, and he didn’t enjoy feeling anything human, even the slightest bit, but if Alois was back, who’s to say that Claude, that pest that ruined his eternity, wasn’t roaming around somewhere else, too?

“Ciel has asthma,” Sebastian replied coolly, eyes on the smaller teenager. “Which is why he doesn’t want to run.”

“Shit, seriously? You’re going to let something like a bit of bad genetics stop you from doing anything productive?”

Ciel scoffed in response, crossing his arms. Sebastian noted that he still did that often. “Those ‘bad genetics’ have almost killed me before,” Sebastian almost laughs because Ciel actually has no idea just how many times his asthma has nearly killed him. He loosely remembers the incident at the circus, when the girl had dumped a bucket of cold water on Ciel, then spent a day or two nursing him back to health.

“When was the last time you had an asthma attack?” Sebastian asked, receiving a betrayed frown from Ciel. He was probably expecting the taller man to ignore the conversation, but this definitely seemed like the kind of question a camp counselor (specifically, one trying to steal the boy’s soul) should ask. Man, Sebastian was great at his job.

“Well,” the boy begins. “I was about six or seven. Why do you ask?”

“It’s probably in remission by now,” Alois insisted, grabbing Ciel’s slender arm with both of his hands. “Come on, race me!”

“Asthma isn’t cancer, I’m not sure if it can even go into remission, and I’m not going to race anybody,”

“You’re probably using that as an excuse not to run, aren’t you?” After a moment of Ciel staying silent, he continues. “Come on! Pleeeeeeeeease?”

“No,”

Alois’ face shifted the slightest bit, dropping his arms, and Sebastian could only guess what was about to come out of that usually-vulgar mouth of his. “What a wimp, you won’t even race me when we all know you’re just trying to wriggle out of doing anything fun. You’re probably afraid that I’d win. Coward.”

It was painfully obvious that Ciel didn’t take kindly to that assumption, or the title that left Alois’ pouted lips. His eye widened considerably at the use of the nickname, his frown deepening. “I’d beat you, I know it. Asthma or not.”

“Prove it.”

Silly taunting was all that it took, because Ciel’s hand was around Alois’ wrist in the blink of an eye, dragging him toward the flagpole with cheap speakers attached to the top, followed shortly by a flag donning the same design as the shirts given to campers and counselors.

“We’ll start there,” Ciel demanded, pointing to the worn wood in the center of all the cabins. Sebastian followed closely behind the pair, listening intently to each and every word. “Then, we’ll pass the lake, behind the cabins, and finally back around through the gate. The first one to make it back here wins.” By the time he finished speaking, Ciel looked more determined than ever. His jaw was clenched, and his head was held high. _Well, isn’t that just like the proud little earl,_ Sebastian thought with the faintest hint of a smirk.

Ciel let go of Alois’ arm then, and turned to the demon. “And you,” he began, finger jutting towards him. “You stay over there and make sure nobody cheats by cutting through cabins or foliage.”

“Is that an order?” Sebastian purred, smirking gently in hopes that Ciel would say it outright, that perhaps in that event their contract would be reestablished. Perhaps it just needed a little bit of a push.

“Yes, okay, whatever! God, you’re fucking weird about that.” _No such luck,_  Sebastian thought as he strolled leisurely to the directed area. “We should stretch beforehand,” the teen said, crouching down, hands on the knee he brought forward, the other extended behind him. It was truly amazing how far he could stretch his legs apart in a pair of skin tight jeans.

“You can stretch all you’d like, Ciel,” Alois hummed from beside him, playfully tugging at one of the chains on the other’s pants. “It’s not going to help any. I’ll win anyway!”

Sebastian could tell by the way Ciel clenched his jaw again that the blonde’s sing-song tone only made him more determined to win. The calm, almost playful expression his face shifted into afterwards was the polar opposite of his previous annoyance and yet suggested the same thing. “You should stretch too, unless you want to pull something. I wouldn’t even feel _good_  about that win,” Ciel replied, craning his neck to send a seemingly innocent smirk to his contestant.

With a simper of his own, Alois knelt down and copied Ciel’s movements. “Just to make you feel _good_  about yourself,” he retorted. Not once did his eyes leave Ciel’s and vice versa. It grew silent between them after that, and Sebastian couldn’t help but think about how proud humans were. Pride was a funny thing, he thought. It was either everything or nothing, depending on who you were. There were noble humans, like Ciel Phantomhive, who would do anything to defend their honor and dignity. Then, there were humans like the maggots he’d been making deals with for the last hundred years, the scum of the earth who lacked self respect of any kind.

Sebastian was unsure where Alois Trancy fell on that spectrum.

“Can we get on with this?” the latter demanded, snapping the demon away from his contemplation. Sebastian glanced to Ciel, as if asking for permission. The boy nodded and poised himself to take off in a sprint, affirming Sebastian’s silent question.

“On your mark,” Sebastian began, raising an arm. “Get set.” Both boys leaned the slightest bit forward. He let his arm linger in the air silently for a few extra moments, wallowing in the tense atmosphere between the roommates as they poised to run. Both of them wore a mask of determination, aggressive resolve ready at any moment to attack.

“Go.”

As soon as the word was uttered, Sebastian’s arm dropped down and both teenagers flew forward, bolting towards him. It was apparent that Alois’ long legs were an advantage he had on Ciel. The blonde was ahead, and through the furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips, Sebastian could make out the slightest hint of smug arrogance. He seemed so sure of himself, certain that he was going to win this race.

However, by the time that the pair ran past Sebastian, Ciel had advanced on Alois, and was, in simplest terms, on his heels. Sebastian would even dare to say that they were tied for split seconds before one would push himself further, then fall back and repeat. Their running was sporadic. Neither boy paced themselves. A big mistake if Sebastian had ever seen one. Far too many times did he witness somebody lose a race because they started with their all and got tired halfway through.

Neither the blonde nor the ex demon seemed to pay attention, though. By the time they’d made it to the water’s edge, disrupting a group’s activity in the process, both only seemed to push themselves harder; challenging not only their opponent but himself at the same time. Both were intent on winning, and each one was too prideful to allow a loss.

_What a silly thing pride is._

Miraculously, by the time the pair disappeared behind the mess of cabins, falling out of Sebastian’s sight, Ciel was in the lead. Paces ahead of Alois, he began to full on leap and bound in front of the blonde, determination molding his reddened face. Alois’ earlier confidence had been replaced with anxious uncertainty, and it was the last thing Sebastian saw for minutes on end.

By the time they reappeared through the entrance’s gates, they’d both lost some of their momentum but none of their arrogant auras. It was a battle of dominance through and through, and by some stroke of luck, Ciel was winning. His short, slender legs carried him with a strained run that was by no means fast, but quick enough to evade Alois; though it wasn’t through lack of effort on the blonde’s part.

Their hair stuck to their foreheads. Both were panting heavily and speeding up once more at the sight of the finish line, in a comically amusing display of lanky arms pumping at their sides. _Pride_ , Sebastian thought once more as the red-faced teenagers closed in on the pole. _The downfall of humanity and, quite possibly, these kids’ mobility for the next few days._

With entertained eyes, Sebastian watched as the taller male sped ahead at last second. He watched the resolve harden the blonde’s face, and the outraged grimace form on Ciel’s lips as the other ran right past him and grabbed the pole to steady himself. He can’t say he wasn’t rooting for Ciel to win, but he was also incredibly biased.

As Sebastian started forward to force a congratulations and, if needed, escort the defeated party somewhere else for the victor‘s own safety, Ciel leaned down to grab his knees, still gasping for breath. He leaned on himself while Alois supported his body against the post, puffing just hardly less than Ciel. “You see,” the blonde rasped, lifting his head to watch the other. “Told you I’d beat you. Ow- Jesus- my calves-”

“Stop complaining,” Ciel coughed, wheezing just hard enough to concern Sebastian. The demon rushed towards him, and placed a hand on his back just as he continued through a series of coughs and short pants, “Stop complaining and get a fucking medic-”

“Ciel?” Well, that definitely piqued Alois’ interest, Sebastian noted bitterly as he guided Ciel into standing straight. “Holy shit, is he okay?”

“It’s an asthma attack.” Sebastian said simply, rubbing slow circles between the boy’s shoulders and ignoring a glower from him; one that implied his impending doom at the hands of an angry teenager.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Ciel hissed before collapsing into a hacking fit, clutching his chest. All at once, Sebastian gingerly hoisted the boy into his arms and hurried back towards the cabin, despite the protests shouted at him from Alois behind his back. Once in the shelter of the teen’s living quarters, he sets him on the bottom bunk, despite the hissing gasps of “A doctor, you dipshit, I need a doctor.”

Deciding that Ciel had been through quite enough agony for the day, Sebastian sighed and used his powers to reopen Ciel’s airway, manipulating the boy’s body with just the twitch of his own finger. As soon as he can take a proper breath, it’s virtually over. He collapsed against the pillow and continued to catch his breath as his throat cleared up.

“Wha-” he breathed, eyelids closing on their own accord, only for Ciel to stubbornly force them back open. Right. He must be exhausted. It’s much like the first recovery of an asthma attack that Sebastian had been present for, before he knew exactly what was wrong with his young master, before he could do anything but stare helplessly and let that quack of a doctor help _his_ young master. “How did you do that?”

“If I couldn’t stop a simple asthma attack, what kind of camp counselor would I be?” he mused, pleased with himself for that witty line. It’d been so long since it’d been relevant.

“Whatever that means,” Ciel whispered faintly before his breath finally evened out (even if it did sound the slightest bit labored) and his eyes close completely. Sebastian lingered by his bedside, just for a few moments longer, assuring himself that Ciel would be fine once he left. _Of course he will,_ he finally reasoned as he stood. _Could something as miniscule as ’bad genetics’ really kill the great Earl Phantomhive?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH ALL THE NICE COMMENTS,,,,, YOU ALL GIVE ME LIFE THANK YOU,,,,, I DON'T REALLY REPLY BUT TRUST I'M OVER HERE FLAPPING MY HANDS AND SQUEAKING INCOHERENTLY HHHHHH [aggressive heart eyes]


	5. [ciel voice] Alois Trancy you Are A Fucking Twat But You're An Awfully Cute Twat (Shit That Was Gay)

_Somebody… Anybody… Please… Help us…_

_It’s dark. Too dark to see in front of himself, and yet Ciel inherently knows that the safest moments are the darkest; the lack of candlelight means they aren’t here. He’s still afraid because really, they could come back at any moment._

_Lamb, he’s called. “This lamb is worth more than the rest,” “This little lamb will do nicely tomorrow,” “Let the blue-eyed lamb out, let me play with him,”_

_They call him a lamb, and yet he feels more like a prized pig in a pen, awaiting slaughter. He’s afraid, scared shitless, but as soon as the door opens for white men and women in black robes and masks, he graduates to full on petrified._

_He’s next and he knows it._

_“Help!” he screams into the darkness, earning a small, collective chuckle from the crowd as they begin to light candles and illuminate the too-white room. They’re mocking him, and it only makes him tremble with anger; ‘and fear,’ a small voice within himself reminds. He can't stand to watch this. He's got to fight, got to do something, and so he does the only thing he knows he_ can _do. “Help! Anyone! Someone,_ please _!”_

_“It’s no use,” a man coos, kneeling down to meet Ciel’s eye level. “Scream all you want, no one can hear you. Nobody’s going to save you, little lamb.” Of course, Ciel knows very well that nobody could hear him. If they could, he would be outside of the cage by now. Still, he doesn’t like to be reminded, especially not by one of the same men who held him down weeks ago as another burned a seal into his side._

_Angry at the man‘s mocking tone, and the circumstances he put Ciel in, the boy puckers his lips and lets a short stream of saliva shoot from his lips, between the bars, and onto the man’s grotesque mask. He visibly tenses and oh god, Ciel can only imagine what sort of punishment he’s about to endure._

_With a tight lipped frown, the man stands, turns his back to the cage holding Ciel and a few other ‘lambs’. “I choose him tonight,” he says, stepping forward and wiping the saliva from his face with his sleeve. “Prepare the ritual.”_

Shit. I fucked up.

_Panicked, Ciel grasps the bars before him, clenching his tiny fists around the cool iron. He watches as they chant in Latin, pass around a long, thin blade… As they decide who gets the honors of murdering the Phantomhive heir._

_It’s that moment, as a chubby, snow-white mustached man with cold, unforgiving eyes behind his mask is handed the sacrificial dagger. It’s the same moment that some blonde woman peers towards the cage and laughs with her husband, leaning into his side, amused by the pain and suffering the child was about to endure. It’s in those little, simultaneous moments that Ciel decides there is no God._

_The realization clears his conscience, leaving him the clarity to focus on what he really wants. Before, his life goal had just been to make it through life and then go to heaven._

_There is no heaven, but there definitely is a hell. I’m in it right now, Ciel thinks, narrowing his eyes at the group, who has now began to pass around a goblet, each mindlessly taking a sip in some ritualistic bullshit that Ciel didn't quite grasp._

_He wants them dead._

_He wants to kill them- he wants nothing more than to kill them, kill them, kill them, kill them! Ciel wants to kill them so badly that his entire body quakes, vibrates with red hot anger and burning white hatred. He can scarcely focus on his surroundings, too absorbed in thinking of the things he’d do once released from the cage. His mind is so consumed with fantasies and images of their ripped apart bodies, of him laughing maniacally just like them; covered in their blood, that he hardly hears the tap-tap-tapping of stiletto heels against the marble floors, heading right towards him, or the amazed gasps coming from the group._

_“Goodness,” a calm, melodic voice greets, forcing him out of his gory daydream. “What a tiny master you are…”_

_He knows that voice. He knows those glowing red eyes, those beautiful crimson orbs that had drawn him in the first day they’d met. Those eyes are the only distinguishing feature through the cluster of dark shadows surrounding them, vaguely the shape of a person, and yet he could instantly tell who they belong to._

_“Seba-”_

Once again, Ciel woke with a gasp, reeling from the nightmare he can hardly remember. Vaguely, he could recall bloody images and pleading for help. The rest of the details are muddy, foggy bits and pieces. Still, the things he can remember are enough to keep him trembling, just as he was when he woke up.

“Mmh,” somebody mumbled beside him. The room was dark, too dark for Ciel to make out any real features, but as he looked at the form to his right he was absolutely sure that the arm around him belonged to Alois Trancy. “Why are you shivering?” the blonde asked in a hoarse whisper, eyes still closed in Ciel’s direction (not that he could actually _see_ that without focusing intently).

“I… Bad dream, I guess.” Though he was confused as to why Alois was in his bed, confused as to what happened after the asthma attack, and confused as to why his right eye was burning madly, his roommate’s arms felt comfortable. He was warm, and whether he’d admit it or not, he felt safe; or rather, safer than he had during whatever whirlwind dream he'd thought up. 

“Hypocrite.” Alois retorted in a teasing, half-asleep tone. Still, his comment about that morning did nothing to calm Ciel’s shaking. The taller teenager sighed quietly and held Ciel the slightest bit closer, tightening his grip on his slender waist, which also burned where his birthmark had always been. “It was just a dream, Ciel. Go back to sleep.”

Pain in his eye and skin, Ciel wasn’t sure if he _could_ go back to sleep. A few moments passed in silence and he chalked his irritations down to bug bites and exhaustion, but not all of his questions were answered. There was still the issue of sharing his sleeping quarters. “Hey. Alois.”

“Mhm?”

“Why are you in my bed?”

A few more beats of silence. “I made you have an asthma attack earlier,”

“I remember,” Ciel replied, voice free of the venom he usually addressed Alois with. Absent mindedly, he tucked his face beneath his roommate’s chin, nuzzling closer against his warmth. “What’s that got to do with anything, though?”

“I came in to check on you after Sebastian left and you were asleep,” Ciel noted how groggy and tired the blonde sounded, and for the briefest moment he thinks about how adorable he can be when he isn’t terrorizing him, or when he‘s too tired to enunciate properly and instead allows his words to slur into one another. “You were having a bad dream, so I got into bed with you and held you.”

“That’s creepy.” Again, he spoke with no ill mannered tones, and still pressed himself against the other.

“Shut up, that’s what my brother used to do for me when I had nightmares,” Alois retorted, fingers tracing the trail of Ciel‘s spine carefully. “It always worked.”

“It’s working now. Thank you.”

“Mmh,” he hummed. Ciel felt the vibrations from Alois’ chest, and could practically feel himself melt comfortably against his gentle touch. “I’m sorry that I gave you an asthma attack,”

“S’okay,” Ciel muttered, willing his mind to forget about the stinging in his eye long enough for him to fall back into a steady slumber. “Goodnight, Trancy.”

“Goodnight, Ciel,” It was definitely weird to think that he was cuddled against the very same boy he’d declared hatred for, and yet it felt pleasant all the same. His arms were taut and caring around his middle, and Ciel could honestly say he felt safer wrapped in Alois’ grasp than he felt wrapped in his parents’. The more he thought it over, though, the more he supposed you didn't have to feel pleasantly towards somebody in order ot feel safe with them. That thought was well enough to fall asleep to as any, and soon he found himself drifting back into another heavy sleep, draping his arm around the other’s middle.

The next morning, the reveille trumpets broke the serene silence over the lake and cabins, jolting Ciel into full conciseness. With a protesting grumble, the teen reaches over the lump beside him and grabs the eye patch on his nightstand. His eye had since stopped burning, a good sign. At least he could guess it wasn’t any sort of infection, lest it begin stinging again for no apparent reason.

Ciel’s slender, deft fingers tied the knot of his eye patch behind his head with a practiced ease. Outside the cabin, the trumpet sounds died out and yet, Alois was still asleep. Usually, he was up before Ciel, ready to take on the day with his obnoxiously bubbly attitude and, on some occasions, a simultaneous, terrifyingly detached coldness. Ciel himself had never been on the receiving end of icy remarks, and as his gaze traced every one of Alois’ sleeping features, he wondered why that was.

Alois looked so sad as he slept, Ciel noted. His lips curved into a soft pout and though relaxed, his face took on a completely different demeanor than it had during his waking hours. When his wide, almond shaped eyes were open they stood out against his alabaster skin, clashing against the pigment that they complimented so well. With his eyes closed, however, Alois was comparable to a porcelain sculpture, perhaps a doll with tiny, barely there freckles dusted over his cheeks.

The door of the cabin across from theirs slammed shut, roping Ciel back to reality. Staring intently at your roommate, no matter how attractive, was not cool. “Hey,” he muttered, nudging Alois’ shoulder gently. “It’s time to wake up.”

“No, no, the trumpets.”

“The trumpets went off a minute ago.” It may have been more, depending on how long he was staring at the sleeping blonde. Climbing over his hips, Ciel huffs, “Come on, let’s get dressed already.”

“I’m already dressed.”

“In the clothes you wore yesterday.”

“What’s your point?”

Wrinkling his nose, Ciel began to sift through his drawer for a clean pair of pants. “You _ran_ yesterday, if you can remember.”

“Yeah,” the blonde groaned as he stretched, sitting up. “And if _you_ can remember, I beat you.”

_It isn’t worth the argument, I'll just ignore him,_  Ciel silently decided as he slipped his shirt off. It smelled of his own sweat and the colors seemed brighter, and more irritating, than they had when he first put on the garment. After tossing the orange monstrosity aside, his next order of business was to find something else to wear as a top.

“Jesus,” Alois exclaims from the bed. Behind him, Ciel heard the blonde’s bare feet hit the floor and walk towards him. “What happened here?” he asked, fingertips ghosting over the birthmark on Ciel’s back. The touch was all too affectionate, and Ciel almost wanted to cringe, like when one eats something too sweet for their palate; it’s delicious and yet it leaves a bad taste in one’s mouth.

“I was born with it,” he replied simply, sorting through the numerous black band shirts he owned. The Cure, The Smiths, Siouxie and the Banshees, The Violent Femmes. “It’s a birthmark.”

By the time he decided on a She Wants Revenge top, the other teenager had removed his fingers from his back. “It looks more like a burn mark,” Ciel tensed up at that, freezing halfway through pulling his clothing on. _Burn mark,_ Visions of his nightmare danced through his head and before he could fully remove himself from the blurry reverie, Alois had his hands on his shoulders. “Calm down, what’s the matter with you?”

“Don’t-” Ciel jerked his body from Alois’ grasp, as though the fingertips that so tenderly worked at his back a mere moment ago had now cut him like daggers. “I’m fine,” he insisted, though his voice wavers slightly. When he turned to face his roommate, his face had contorted into a mask of confusion and- Ciel realized as he glanced to his baby blue eyes- worry.

“Is that why you’re shaking like a Chihuahua?”

“I’m not a fucking Chihuahua.” he retorted, quickly pulling his shirt on to cover his skin discoloration. Being compared to a small dog really rubbed him the wrong way, but he was more worried about whether or not he’d finally lost it. What were the chances that he’d dream something like that, that his birthmark would sting through the night, and this morning Alois would choose _that_ as a comparison to his birthmark? Convincing himself that it was all a strange coincidence, Ciel grabs his iPod from the nightstand beside his bunk. “Come on, we should get to breakfast, you dope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE HAVE SOME FLUFF  
> RELATIONSHIP BUILDING (guilty feeling Alois) FLUFF!!! [tosses flower petals into the air]


	6. Alois And Ciel Sitting In A Tree D-R-U-N-K-enly.

“How many times,” Alois began, bouncing his foot to create a little splash in the water, pausing to crush a bug on one of the posts of the dock. It squirmed for a moment beneath his finger and then died with a satisfying _crunch_. “How many times do you think a kid’s drowned at this shitty camp?”

Ciel rolled his head over to give the blonde an incredulous look. Oh, and he’d looked so relaxed just a moment previously. “What the actual fuck-”

“I mean, do you think they’re hiding a Camp Crystal Lake sized conspiracy or something?”

“What even made you think about that?” the other asked. “Are you thinking of drowning me, because so help me I will-”

“I’m thinking of drowning you just as much as you are of me.”

“That isn’t reassuring,” Ciel replied, turning his gaze back to the sunlight dancing on the lake. The sight was beautiful, painting the sky above and water below them shades of pink and purple. “But I suppose if I had to guess, probably seven kids.”

“Why seven?”

“Any more than that and they’d, hopefully, have half a mind to shut down the camp, deeming it as a danger,” Ciel explained, lying down on the dock, draping a slender arm over his eyes.

Alois smirked gently and let him get comfortable before the blonde cuddled against him, head pressed against his bony shoulder. Much to his surprise, Ciel didn’t protest, and made no move from the other teenager. “Hey, Ciel. Want to shut down the camp?” Alois asked, nuzzling his face against the ball of Ciel’s shoulder.

“What-” Ciel began, interrupted by his roommate shoving him off of the dock and into the lake. He reveled in the yelp that Ciel cried out, and laughed as the drenched mop of black-blue hair emerged from the water, dripping lake water and angry stares.

“Oh my,” he giggled, leaning over the dockside to meet Ciel’s angry gaze, tipping his head to give himself an air of false innocence. “You don’t look too happy with me.”

Ciel’s eye narrowed in the blonde’s direction and before he realized Ciel had even moved, he was being yanked into the lake. After the initial shock of being suddenly engulfed in water, the blonde hurried to the surface to take a much welcomed breath. “Fuck,” he gasped, shaking his head like a dog in an attempt to dry off.

“Oh my,” Ciel said from beside him. Alois slowly turned and found a self-satisfied smirk on his roommate’s lips. “You definitely don’t look too happy with me.”

“Oh shut up,” Alois huffed, splashing towards the other as he crawled to the soil lying just outside of water’s reach. Rationally speaking, he knew he deserved that, but it didn’t stop him from bristling. Ciel walked behind him, shivering gently. “You look like the cat who just ate the canary and it isn’t a good look for you,” Alois sneered.

Ciel shrugged in response and grabbed the front of his shirt. Alois watched the water fall from his hands as he wrang his shirt out. The blonde wasn’t sure when his eyes drifted lower, but he soon found himself staring at Ciel’s exposed stomach, low riding denim clinging to his hips. Alois could always tell that Ciel had nice hips beneath those god-awful band tees, but it was then that he fully realized how nicely they were shaped; that they curved just enough for the water on the goose bumped skin to catch the light of the sun.

All at once, his gaze was lifted by Ciel’s voice. “The hell are you staring at me for?”

“Not staring,” he insisted, tearing his eyes away as he turned back to the trail between a mess of shrubs. “Come on, we should go get changed.” There were no protests as he started towards the cabin once more, trying to think of anything other than the beautiful curve of Ciel’s waist or the way a droplet of cool water rolled down his pale, porcelain skin.

 _Get yourself together, Trancy,_  he silently spits at himself as they reenter their living quarters. If Ciel was uncomfortable with the silence between the pair, he said nothing about it as they browsed through clean clothing; the exact opposite of Alois’ dealing with it.

The silence was deafening, so irritating that the blonde expected his ears to ring at any given moment. By the time Ciel tugged a shirt with Siouxie Sioux’s face onto his still damp chest, Alois cleared his throat, determined to break the silence. “Do you always listen to that depressing goth shit?” _Nailed it._

Ciel peered over to the other incredulously, arched eyebrow and pursed lips. His features looked chiseled from the purest marble, set in the finest stone- and since when did Alois fucking Trancy assign such poetic thoughts to his rude, brash, abrasive roommate? “Depends on what you consider goth, I think. “Siouxie and the Banshees is pretty much pop and- what are you doing?”

“Going through your iPod.” And that’s exactly what Alois was doing. He’d plucked the device from the top of Ciel’s nightstand and was now scrolling through the songs. He hardly knew any of the artists, truth be told. He’d heard _of_ a great deal of them but never actually read into their work. “Well,” he finally said after a minute of searching. “The Soho Dolls are cool.”

“I didn’t think you’d know anything on there, none of them sing in French.”

“Good tunes are good tunes,” Alois replied with a shrug, carelessly tossing the iPod onto Ciel’s bunk. “I can get down to Brigitte Bardot just as much as Dispatch Mode.”

“What?”

“One of the bands on your iPod. Dispatch Mode, right?”

“I’m going to assume you meant Depeche Mode and let that fact do the talking.”

“Shut up, it’s not my fault that I prefer happy music as opposed to- er- whatever it is that you listen to,” the blonde sneered, leaning against the post of their bed. He watched Ciel and Ciel stared right back at him. If the expression on his face told Alois anything, it was that he seemed unamused. Though his head was tilted downward, his eyes remained lidded, one brow raised as if challenging Alois to say something else.

The semi-threatening look, of course, didn’t stop Alois from continuing. “Anyway,” the teen hummed. He was convinced the next words out of his mouth would make Ciel happier than he’d been since arriving to this camp, especially since the teenager hardly seemed like he wanted to be there. “I was thinking we could sneak out tonight.”

Alois could practically see the interest pique in Ciel’s face. His bitter expression shifted into one of curiosity, eyebrows raised and visible eye wide. “Oh?”

The blonde nodded. Smirking softly he starts towards his dresser. Not once does he feel Ciel’s gaze leave him. “I’ve gotten bored during the night far too many times, and tonight seems as good as any to break that cycle.” He opens a drawer and after a small amount of digging his hand emerges with a small, plastic rectangle. “Coming with me?”

He can see the conflicted thoughts running over Ciel’s face before he says, “I don’t have an ID.”

“It’s fine, I know the doorman.” Alois replies. “I’ve been spending my summers here since I could walk, after all.”

“You’ve always struck me more as a spoiled LA brat who really doesn‘t leave the city unless you have to.”

“Like you?” Ciel’s lack of reply lets Alois know he’s won that argument before it really began. “Either you come with or you don’t, either way I’m going to have some sort of fun tonight.”

“Of course I’m coming with. Do you really think I would be able to live with myself if I knowingly went to bed while you partied?”

Alois shoves his fake ID back into his drawer, just in case, and Ciel stalks over to his bed, picking up his iPod from the spot it’d been unceremoniously discarded to. The duo only need to wait a few hours before it’s lights out, and they find themselves getting ready via carefully placed flashlight so as not to alert any of the staff.

It’s easy enough for Alois to get ready. He ran a comb through his hair and squeezed into a pair of tight fitting shorts, boots and a thin tee shirt before he decided he was ready. Ciel, surprisingly took longer. Not that Alois could really complain. He didn’t mind watching Ciel strip, nor did he mind watching him squirm into a pair of black leg-hugging jeans paired with high tops and a shirt displaying a band he didn’t care for.

As soon as both teenagers considered themselves attractive enough to leave, they clicked their flashlights off and tiptoed through their door. Alois led the pair, hurrying behind a neighboring cabin with Ciel following close behind. From that cabin, they slip behind another, then another. The thrill of sneaking around gave Alois a sense of danger. He tried not to ruin it with the knowledge that the staff couldn’t really _do_ anything to him for sneaking around. Heart racing, he skipped behind the last cabin and grabbed Ciel’s wrist. Before his roommate could protest, the blonde was practically dragging him past the mess hall and through the sham of a gate, grinning from ear to ear with adrenaline.

“We did it!” he whispered, bouncing on his heels. His hand was still around Ciel’s slender wrist and he didn’t seem to pull away, though it went unnoticed by the gushing blonde. “We snuck out, like spies or something. That was so cool, let’s do this more often-”

Alois continued to lead the way, guiding Ciel into the nearest town. It wasn’t big, but it wasn’t small either, and the familiarity of it made Alois feel nostalgic enough to begin pointing out buildings as he and Ciel made their way through the streets.

“I vandalized that building with my roommate last year,”

“I lost my virginity in that hotel,”

“I stole liquor from that store before they got shut down for selling to minors,”

The stories went on and on until finally, Ciel interrupted to ask how much longer they had to walk. “Not far,” Alois replied, continuing on the sidewalk. Within minutes, they’d found themselves in front of a less-than-sanitary club with a bouncer perched outside the door. Worryingly, the bouncer was definitely not somebody Alois knew; and yet he approached him anyway.

“ID,” the man grunted through his plump, pursed lips.

Alois willingly tugged the rectangle from his pocket and offered it to the stranger. “What happened to Alex? He used to work here during the Summer,” Alois asked as he waited for the bouncer to finish inspecting his less than legitimate ID card.

“Decided to go to college or something. Where’s his ID?”

“Well, I should suppose it’s at college with him,” the blonde teased, reaching for the card, which the bouncer pulled away from his reach at last second.

“Funny. Look, kid, neither of you are getting in. You’re like 12.”

“Can’t you read the date on my ID? I’m 23-”

“Cute. Get lost.”

It’s the first time he’d ever been rejected, and Alois gapes at the man for a few lingering moments before he sighs and shakes his head. “Fine,” he pouts, defeated. Beside him, he can feel Ciel deflate. “You win, Mr. Doorman. Have a good night, alright?” The only reply he got was a grunt. Pinching Ciel’s shirt in his fingers, he started back down the road they’d approached by.

“Seriously?” Ciel hissed as soon as they were out of earshot. Alois did his best to ignore him as he eyed the building, scoping out and remembering what he could of the club. “You’re really just, giving up and walking away with your tail in between your legs?”

“Of course not,” he replied as his shoulders perked back up. Entire demeanor changed, he turned down a narrow alley and sure enough, to his own delight, Alois remembered the building’s setup correctly. With a dimpled grin, he cast his gaze up to the tiny, framed glass a good five feet above his head. “The bathroom window,” he said simply. _Ciel’s smart and can keep up,_  he thinks as he hoists himself onto a dumpster.

“You’re not going to make me climb up there, are you?”

“Not gonna make you. But feel free to sit around out here while I get hella turnt,” the blonde retorted, reaching up to force the window open. As it pushed forward to reveal an opening, Alois turned his head to watch Ciel, curious as to what the other boy would actually do with the given ultimatum.

“Please,” Ciel replied, glancing around before climbing up onto the dumpster beside Alois. “Please never say that again.”

In response, Alois clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and tugs Ciel in front of him. “Jump up and pull yourself through the window.” He watched Ciel pull himself up and then his legs scrabble for purchase on the side of the cement wall, painted with vibrant colored graffiti.

“A little help would be nice,” he demanded into the echoing bathroom which was, thankfully, empty and void of any other human life than the brat hanging in by the window.

Alois smirked to himself and brought his head into a small opening to ask, “You mean like push you in or something?”

“Yes, exactly like _push me in or something._ ” he demanded, though as the blonde placed his hands on the teen’s ass, there was a protest. “Hey! Not there, you piece of-”

“The hell are you kids doing?!”

Alois spins his head to catch the gaze of the angry bouncer who had rejected them only minutes beforehand. Eyes wide and panic settling in his stomach, Alois poked his head back into the opening to mutter “Meet me by the DJ booth,” before harshly shoving Ciel through the window.

There was a yelp and a crash from inside as the bouncer began rushing towards Alois, who jumped down from the dumpster and bolted back towards the front entrance. _If he’s busy chasing me, there shouldn’t be anyone at the door,_ he reasons, hurrying to the door. He pulled it open and ran inside, losing himself in the mess of people.

The bass of the song reverberated through the floor and into the soles of his feet as he sauntered through the crowd of jerking bodies, eyes peeled for Ciel. By the time he made it to the DJ booth, he’d caught sight of Ciel, leaning against the stage with a drink already in hand. “Where’d that come from?” Alois yelled over the booming music, just barely catching Ciel’s attention.

A single eye glanced up at him as Ciel sipped through the straw in the glass. As soon as his mouth was free, he called back, “Some guy bought it for me, I told him to get fucked afterwards, though!”

The blonde nodded and motioned into the crowd. “No neck is still looking for us! Switch shirts with me!” The alcohol must have already began to calm Ciel, because the teen nodded and set his drink down to slip the garment off, toss it to Alois who did the same in turn. Ciel’s shirt was the slightest bit baggy on him and through the haze of drunken bodies gyrating against one another, Alois noticed the bodyguard coming closer. “And the eye patch!”

“What?”

“Your eye patch, give it to me, that’s your most distinguishing feature and he won’t-”

“Yeah, quit your blabbering,” Ciel interrupted, already reaching up to untie it. He tossed it towards Alois, rubbing his knuckle against his now- free eye.

The blonde took a moment to get it on himself and when he’d tied it neatly at the back of his head, he offered a nod to Ciel. “Hey, what’s the point of wearing a contact if you’re blind in that eye?” he called over the loud, booming bass tearing its way through the speaker.

Ciel tipped his head and cupped his hand behind his ear, but as Alois repeated himself it was made evident that the other teen couldn’t hear anything over the music. He’d left it well enough alone, but for the following hours Alois couldn’t stop thinking about Ciel’s eye, about the purple- almost luminescent- pentagram shape where his iris and pupil should have been. _I knew he was a goth kid, but that just seems a little excessive,_ he thought repeatedly through the night as he effortlessly convinced older men of varying ages to buy him drinks, only realizing some hour down the road that flirting with an eyepatch really attracted some strange people; and for that reason he placed it in his pocket.

One point, it led to him on his knees in the bathroom in front of some guy he’d met moments prior. At another, he was crouched in front of a toilet. After sufficiently emptying his stomach of the stranger’s cum he’d swallowed, Alois decided that the party was definitely over and ventured out to find Ciel. When he’d located him, face red and dancing off beat to some tune with a heavy guitar riff, Alois was greeted with an uncharacteristically enthusiastic grin. “Hey- Man, I love this song!” he hiccupped, hands reaching out to hold Alois by the shoulders. “We should dance-”

Had he been sober, Alois would have done the responsible thing (or so he liked to think) and told him no. However he was not sober, and we all know that he’d be lying to himself if he claimed to be sensible, and so he snaked his arms around Ciel’s waist.

Ciel’s hips were almost fluid in his hands, they felt just as firm and perfect as Alois had thought. He watched Ciel intently, watched how his eyes fluttered closed and he mouthed along to the words of the song; he felt the way his slender, round hips rocked against his own. Maybe it was the lyrics, or maybe it was the way his roommate felt against him, but Alois suddenly felt incredibly desperate to place his lips on Ciel’s.

_I want a boy that tastes like whiskey and cigarettes,_

Ciel had began running his hands down Alois’ shoulders, shoulders swaying back and forth.

_Who’s it gonna be, who’s gonna be next?_

Ciel began moving his head to the beat now, exposing the creamy, pale skin of his neck. Alois wanted to run his tongue over the-

“Are you going to kiss me or not, you piece of shit?” When Ciel had opened his eyes was unclear to Alois, but it was obvious that the shorter teen had resumed glaring at him as usual, with the same cocky arrogance that grated Alois’ nerves so _fucking_ badly.

Forgetting about the fact that he’d vomited less than three minutes ago, Alois crashed his lips against Ciel’s in a less than gentle kiss. It was all teeth and aggressive grabbing, but it was reciprocated. His hands tangled into the shirt hanging off of Ciel’s body, urging his body closer against his own as their lips danced against one another’s.

_Who strokes my kitty cat just like it's his pet,_

Something swelled inside of Alois' stomach and for a slight moment, he wondered if he was going to get sick again.  _Wouldn't that be hilarious, kissing Ciel and then puking on him,_ he thought, prodding the other's lip with the tip of his tongue.  _But no, this isn't vomit-y feeling. This is something else._ Ciel's nails dug into Alois' arms, as if desperately anchoring himself should he fall or something of the like. 

_That's how I get the boys, I get 'em obsessed, so who's next?_

The sinking feeling in Alois' stomach deepened and all at once, realization seemed to punch him right where he felt the heavy confusion; directly in his gut. What he was feeling was something between cruel amusement and disdained affection.  _Disgusting,_ he silently thought, allowing his hands to roam around Ciel's waist, pulling him closer against his own body by the small of his back.  _I don't hate him._

By the time the song ended, the pair were practically clinging to one another, watching each other and glancing at their handiwork taking shape in kiss-swollen lips. “We,” Ciel spoke first, out of breath. “We should get home.”

“Back to camp, you mean?”

A nod.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go back to camp.”

“That might be a good idea,” Alois replied, finally dropping his hands from his shirt on Ciel’s body. “But we need to stop off at the convenience store on the way back. I need food. And some mouthwash.”

“Why mouthwash?”

“To get rid of the taste of old man dick,” the blonde shamelessly replied, too drunk for any brain-to-mouth filter to work (as if he really had one while sober). In response, Ciel’s eyes widened almost comically.

“Whose god damn dick did you suck?!” Ciel is disgusted and amazed. By the sound of his tone, he’s more disgusted than amazed.

“Don’t know,” Alois replied with a shrug, thoughtlessly taking Ciel by the hand. “But it’s nearly four am, and that’s when the chef starts waking up to cook. He‘ll notice us sneaking in if we aren‘t back in time.”

Ciel remained silent behind him, though he kept his hand enveloped in the warmth of Alois’ own, and their fingers tangled together sometime between exiting the club and entering the gas station across the street.

The rest of the night was rather uneventful, and yet all the while Alois could feel his heart lag each time the scent of Ciel’s shirt caught him, or every moment Ciel squeezed his hand to keep from tripping over his own drunken feet.

The rest of the night was uneventful, and yet Alois’ dreams aren’t as pleasant as he would have hoped after an evening of happy memories and fun times. They should have been filled with multicolored lights and bumping music, but instead they held spiders and perverted old men. More than that, though, they held purple pentagrams and stabbing pains in his stomach, but come morning he wouldn’t remember what hurt him so badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It happened!! They kissed!!!! I feel like a proud mom!!!!  
> Also, comments make me hella happy oh gosh you're all beautiful  
> Kinda wanna make a playlist of all the songs mentioned in the fic, low key or not.
> 
> Edit; I'm gonna be like a week or two late with the update while I visit family since I left my laptop at home. Sorry for the inconvenience! :c


	7. [careless whisper plays in the distance] aka the frickle frackle chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a really long time and I'm sorry for that but here's the good news:  
> 1\. it's a reaaaaaaally long chapter (generally the chapters I post are limited to like 5 or 6 pages, but this one is 10. Whoaaaa)  
> 2\. it has smut (because I'm trash and while I am a little not-so-cool with writing people under 18 doing the frickle, I figured since they're technically well over a decade old it shouldn't be a problem-)  
> 3\. it's just a really fucking fun chapter okay? (it was my favorite to write tbh)

_By the time they’d actually stumbled into camp, the sky had began to pale into a shade of barely-there blue against a base of black illuminated by the stars against the heavens. Ciel could hardly stop himself from staring, resulting in him nearly face planting the forest floor on more than one occasion as Alois happily chirped away beside him._

_The blonde only stopped talking as they crossed the threshold into camp, ducking behind a nearby shrub. In his intoxicated state, Ciel could have sworn they were rather stealthy but in reality their movements were clumsy and conspicuous; even as they crouched behind the bush with a series of bubbly giggles, two heads of mussed up hair poked above the leaves._

_Between giggled breaths and shared glances, the pair scoped the grounds before them for any semblance of life, faculty or otherwise. Upon noting the lack of people, Ciel leans closer to Alois and whispers, “I think we’re in the clear.”_

_“Are you, now?” A voice spoke from behind them, rousing a jump from the drunken boys. The voice chuckled and Ciel turned to narrow his eyes at the man._

_“Sebastian, you scared the everliving fuck out of me!”_

_“I see,” the man hummed, casting an amused smirk that just bristled an irritation inside of Ciel. “Pray tell, why are you both sneaking in, especially at such an hour?”_

_“None of your bees guts,” Ciel shot back, earning a snort from the blonde beside him. His eyes remained fixed on Sebastian, even as he felt Alois’ weight shift onto his side. Suddenly sober, Ciel frowned. “We need to get back to our cabin.”_

_“You’re incredibly right. Fortunately for you, I’m on cooking duty this morning and plan to be the only one awake for the next hour.” He extended a hand, which Ciel gladly took. His free hand wrapped around Alois’ arm and he pulled himself up, dragging his roommate up with him._

_“In that case, I’m sure we can make it back just fine, thanks.”_

_“Yes of course, My Lord. By the way, there’s a bottle of Jack Daniels tucked away between your socks and underwear.”_

_“Mmh,” Ciel hummed, pulling Alois along beside him as he lurched towards cabin 8. Slowly, it began to dawn on him what Sebastian had called him. /My Lord./ What the hell was that supposed to mean? Turning his head to demand an answer, Ciel took note that Sebastian had vanished. Surely he hadn’t spaced out long enough for the man to disappear back into the mess hall, had he?_

_“Cieeeeel,” Alois whined, face nestling against his shoulder. “I don’t know if I can make it up to my own bunk.”_

_“We’ll see,” Ciel replied absently, still glancing around for Sebastian. As he accepted the man was no longer there, he began walking again. “If anything, you can sleep in my bunk with me again.”_

Ciel stared up to the slats holding Alois’ bunk above his own, vaguely recalling the night’s events and passing the unopened bottle of whiskey between his palms.

_My Lord._

Why did Ciel feel a certain weight with those words? Why was it that each time he repeated those words to himself it felt less and less viable that Sebastian said them to be a smart ass?

He’d woken up to Alois, who was wearing his eye patch (which he promptly took back before the blonde had a chance to wake and see his eye) snoring gently beside him. The speakers sounded and by some miracle, Ciel convinced Alois and whatever counselor had come to check on them that he didn’t feel well enough to participate in any of the ridiculous activities planned that day. It wasn’t a complete lie, but Ciel still needed to think despite his hangover.

Last night’s events came to him in a series of blurs and barely there memories. He recalled showing up to the club. He recalled some old creep buying him a drink. He definitely recalled switching clothes with Alois (which he still wore because he was too lazy to change, nothing to do with the fact that they smelled nice because that would be incredibly creepy) but anything after that drew blanks for him.

“Is your damn hangover gone yet?” Alois all but yelled as he bounced through the door to their shared cabin. Flinching slightly at the sudden sound, Ciel scowled and craned his neck to watch the blonde. There was no way in hell he was that loud on accident.

“No, thank you for your concern.” By the time he’d finished speaking, Alois had made his way over and plucked the bottled liquor from Ciel’s previously investigative hands.

Staring at it with obviously piqued interest, Alois read the label. “Mmh, holding out on me this whole time? How rude of you, Ciel, that’s incredibly insensitive.”

“Oh shut up,” he demanded, sitting up to snatch the bottle away from his roommate. “Don’t touch my things.”

“You should drink some,” the other hummed disinterestedly, waving a hand as he made his way to the record player Ciel loathed so heavily. “Hair of the dog that bit you and all of that.”

“I intend to.” What else was alcohol for? “I’d rather do it later when I have less of a chance of getting caught, though.” Alois grunted in response and that seemed to be the end of the conversation.

The silence turned into a gentle static, which in turn became an all too perky song that Ciel had yet to hear. Nonetheless, he was hardly impressed by the tune.

From his spot on the bed, he watched Alois move his hips to the melody, humming along. His slender hands kept him propped against the dresser in front of the record player, and his head hung back to expose his thin, pale neck. He still wore Ciel’s shirt and the realization made the teen’s breath hitch in his throat. _He could have changed,_  he thought without bitterness; only with tender realization.

“Shouldn’t you be making a friendship bracelet or some other bullshit like that?” Ciel asked, arching a brow.

The blonde stops pseudo-dancing and opens his eyes to cast a glance at him, then offers a small smirk. “I got out of it by saying I was worried about my sick roommate and needed to check on him.”

“Clever, using my supposed illness as an excuse.”

“Who’s to say that I’m not actually worried?” Alois retorted, turning to lean his back against the dresser, facing Ciel. Tipping his head, the smirk softened into a more genuine smile, a wistful grin. “For all I know, you’re _dying._ ”

Ciel clicked his tongue and stood, annoyed at Alois for ruining the almost fond moment he’d had. “Fine, see if I share my liquor with you then.”

He still did, though. He still snuck out of their cabin beside Alois, only sitting once they’d made it to the camp’s theater. Seating himself on the stage, Ciel took a swig from the bottle and handed it to Alois as he coughed against the burning in his chest.

One swig became two, and two became half the bottle; soon enough, Ciel and Alois were lying against the floor of the stage, heads resting on one another’s shoulders as they watched the stars from in between grey clouds, chatting about nothing of import.

“So- So why are you even here?” Alois laughed as Ciel takes another drink from the bottle. “I mean, it’s obvious you hate this place.”

“Mmh,” Ciel chuckled, swallowing the liquid that tasted like soap and hickory. “I tried blackmailing my father.”

Beside him, Alois snorted and burst into a fit of giggles. “What?” he snickered, craning his neck to look at Ciel. “Why the fuck?”

“I wanted to go to England!” Ciel defended, laughing along with the teen he only called his friend at drunken times like this. “I wanted to see London.”

“Why London?” As he spoke, Alois’ laughter had died down and while still amused, his voice had a tone of genuine interest.

“Not sure,” Ciel sighed, laying his head back against the curve of Alois’ shoulder. “I’ve always wanted to go. It’s stupid-” he knew he was about to over share, and yet he couldn’t will his mouth into closing. “It’s stupid but I’ve always felt like England was somewhere I needed to be, you know? Anyway, I told my dad that I wanted to go and, mistake on my part, that if he didn’t buy me a plane ticket I was going to tell my mother about his affair with his secretary.”

Alois snorted and once more, was in a fit of giggles. “Holy shit!” he laughed. “And he sent you here as punishment? Your dad sounds like a dick!”

Ciel nodded, closing his eyes to laugh a little. “Yes, that’s right. What about yours?”

Alois’ laughter died down far more quickly than before and Ciel could hear him swallow a thick mouthful of the whiskey. “Don’t know my dad all that well. Don’t know either of my parents since my brother died.”

The mood had shifted and Ciel felt it, though he did recall the night Alois had first slept with him.

_That’s what my brother used to do when I had nightmares._

“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching beside him to grab the increasingly emptying bottle from Alois. He took a long swig and finally muttered, “You can talk about it, you know.”

Alois takes a breath and Ciel takes a moment to prepare himself for whatever onslaught of repressed emotions will come pouring from the blonde’s pretty pink lips. “I was about ten,” he began and Ciel couldn’t tell if Alois was actually cuddling against him or if he was simply drunk and cuddling into the blonde himself. “It was really weird, our family used to be pretty close. Like, we weren’t the ideal Disney channel sitcom family, but compared to the rest of the rich kids we knew, we were. We used to take trips to the beach,” Alois stumbled over his words the slightest bit, slurred with alcohol and remembrance but Ciel could tell he was smiling. “Luka, that was his name, used to help me find sand dollars and shells and shit. I used to love the ocean, man.”

Ciel could just hardly imagine it; a summer day spent in the sun, a miniature Alois frantically running to his parents to show off a starfish’s corpse he’d found lounging by the sea. Pink, burnt skin and sun bleached hair would produce an ecstatic grin while beside him a faceless boy would let his brother gloat. “We’d spend all day out there, laughing and playing and just generally being a happy family. That was how we used to spend our summers. When Luka was 12, he started getting really sick. When he died, our parents basically wanted nothing to do with me. We stopped going to the beach and they started sending me here instead.”

It was silent after that, and Ciel’s thoughts crashed against themselves like waves of the ocean in Alois’ memories. Finally he said, “If it’s any consolation, I’m really glad you’re here. You’re the only tolerable person in this stupid camp.”

Alois chuckled and turned his head in Ciel’s direction. Ciel wasn’t sure when he’d started watching Alois’ profile, but now that their faces were close to one another he made no effort to look away. “And I’m glad that you tried blackmailing your father,” the blonde admits.

Ciel’s gaze trails down to Alois’ lips with an unashamed obviousness, and he offers a faint smirk. “That’s so sweet I could kiss you for it.”

“Why don’t you, then?” Alois responded, leaning in closer. The mood had shifted again, from a reminiscent sadness to… something. It’s something else entirely.

Ciel felt the ghost of the other’s breath catch his lips and for a moment, wanted nothing more than to kiss him. There was a series of pitter-pattering heartbeats and glances between his eyes and his lips. _God, he’s got beautiful lips,_ Ciel silently thought.

If Ciel could recall the club, he would understand the shift in feelings. Be it from the change of atmosphere or the deep conversation, but his feelings were demanding in a different way than they had been. Before, his thought process had been something like _he’s fucking cute, I deserve this,_  and now he merely felt his lips closing in on the blonde’s accompanied by a tenderness in his chest.

Like they were magnets attracted to one another’s pull, the pair brought their lips closer and closer. Alois even went so far as to rest a hand on Ciel’s cheek, anchoring him to the other teen. With a stupid grin on Alois’ face, their lips just barely tap before Ciel’s jumping away due to a crashing sound behind them.

For a split second, as Ciel’s gaze met a drum kit’s cymbal crashing to the floor, he was sure they’d been caught by Jason Voorhees or a counselor; only to realize how ridiculous that was as a raccoon emerged from the shadows behind the instrument. Feeling more than foolish for how quickly his heart was beating, Ciel cleared his throat over Alois’ giggling laughter. “We should get back to the cabin,” he states simply, taking the bottle of whiskey and standing.

Alois continued giggling until they made it to their cabin door. His incessant, chiming laughter sent prickles of white hot embarrassment to Ciel’s cheeks. He was honest to god _laughing_ at him being frightened by the animal. “I fail to see what’s so funny,” he hissed, reaching for the doorknob to the cabin.

“Are you mad?” Alois asked, finally calming the laughter bubbling from his throat. To Ciel, the blonde sounded almost remorseful. _Why,_ he wondered, opening the door silently. _There’s no way he’d apologize for laughing at me- that is, if he even knows that’s what this is about. The boy can be daft sometimes._

Before he stepped inside, though, there was a pair of arms entrapping his waist, rendering him immobile from shock and restriction. Tensed against Alois’ chest, he felt the other boy’s lips press against the crook of his neck. “M’sorry,” he slurs, nuzzling his pointed nose against Ciel’s shoulder in a manner so affectionate that it made his cheeks burn.

“I’m… It’s fine?” Ciel pulled away carefully. “Let’s just get into bed and-”

“Wait.” The blonde stopped him with a hand on his wrist, gentle and unflinching as Ciel turned to face his roommate. He’d expected Alois to say something; to explain why he’d stopped Ciel but he was met with silence as the other blatantly stared at him with those wide, frosted blue eyes; glazed over with something unreadable and flickering down to focus on Ciel’s lips. “I…” he began, only to grow silent again.

_I’ve had it,_ Ciel thought, irritated. “If you’re going to do it, do it. Don’t leave me standing around while you gape at me like an idiot,” he reprimanded, tipping his head to the side. When Alois didn’t directly kiss him, he wondered if the blonde knew what he was talking about or if he’d simply imagined the tension between them.

But then a soft but demanding hand was cradling his face as puckered lips pressed to his own. The taste of whiskey overpowering sugared lips exploded on Ciel’s tongue like the sweetest dessert and he couldn’t help but feel it was far too familiar for their first kiss. Nonetheless, the vague fluency and flavor of Alois’ mouth elicited a low moan from the teen, who grabbed onto the other’s wrist to anchor himself into the kiss.

After their puckering against one another had subsided, Alois pulled away; leaving Ciel to foolishly lean forward, searching for the other’s lips again. “We,” the teen breathed, watching Alois’ blush kissed face. “Uh… We should get inside, yeah?”

After the other affirmed with a nod, Ciel stepped into the cabin and pulled the blonde into another kiss, shamelessly snaking his arms around the back of his neck to urge him closer. If Alois was irritated by this, he didn’t show it; merely reciprocating the kiss with his hands at Ciel’s slender waist, tugging the pair to the bed. The bunk creaked with the sudden shift of weight as they unceremoniously fell onto the mattress, first Alois then Ciel on top of him without their lips disconnecting.

The kiss drew on, and at the back of his mind Ciel wished that it’d never end. Even as he parted his lips and Alois’ tongue found his, Ciel harbored a surprising lack of ill feeling towards his roommate and only wished they‘d be closer together. The room suddenly felt far too hot and his clothes felt far too clingy. Slender, cool-to-the-touch fingers began to skirt around the hem of his shirt, managing to pull a low whine from Ciel.

By the time Ciel realized he was dragging his hips down against Alois, the friction against his groin had him keening into the kiss. “Wait, are we- I mean we should- I mean are we-”

“We can stop if you want to,” Alois interrupted, drawing his hand back slowly, to which Ciel shook his head his head decidedly, scowling as if the other had said the stupidest thing he‘d ever heard in his life.

“No, I wanted to know if we’re going all the way or not.”

“What are we, in eighth grade? We aren’t ‘going all the way’” Alois mocked in reply. “we’re fucking, so long as that’s what you’d like.”

“Oh catch me, I’m swooning.” Ciel sneered in a deadpan tone, eyes rolling. The reaction pulled a small laugh from the blonde, who sat up and pressed a gentle kiss to the other’s cheek.

“Does that mean you want to?” he asked softly, ghosting his fingernails up his thigh. Above him, Ciel shivered with delight and gave a soft, barely-there nod.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “Yes, I want to.” His affirmation was met with gentle lips pressing to his jaw, pressing feather light kisses to his skin as they muttered a small command.

“Lay back,” Alois whispered; and Ciel eagerly complied. His mattress creaked beneath the shifted weight of his back and the sound anchored him to reality. It made him realize that this was, in fact, happening and that it wasn’t a dream. Alois’ hands _were_  stroking his sides gently, his lips _were_ working against the skin of his neck and he _was_ moaning in response to each sensation.

One of the hands rubbing softly up and down his ribs slowly migrated to the crotch of his jeans, palming against his half-hard cock through the too-tight denim. With a whine, Ciel pushed his hips up to meet the blonde’s touch, desperate for the friction. “Alois,” he whispered. The lips on his neck drew away and his roommate’s nose nudged with his own. “Off. I want them off,” Ciel continued, taking a brief moment to peck his lips.

Mere moments after the command, Ciel was lifting his hips to assist Alois in tugging them down. Suddenly shy in nothing but his boxers and a shirt, his eyes slipped shut. The kisses originating from the hot skin over the pulse point of his neck slowed and the blonde pulled away just long enough to slip his own shirt off.

The light from the moon was the only source of light in the cabin and through the slatted blinds, the pale glow illuminated the mess of platinum blonde hair falling against alabaster skin. Ciel recalled sometime earlier when Alois complained about the length of his hair but at that moment, just as Ciel was slipping his own shirt off and admiring the way golden locks just hardly touched the soft porcelain at the base of his neck, the teen found that he rather liked Alois’ hair the way it was.

Their bare chests pressed together as Alois dipped his head down for a kiss. _His skin is so soft against mine,_  Ciel silently thought. The blonde began to grind his hips in slow, sporadic circles against his own, drawing out soft, kittenish whimpers against his lips.

“Fuck,” Alois finally breathed, pulling away to caress his mouth over the curve of Ciel’s jaw. “You’re so hard right now.” The lewd comment brought a burning red to the other’s face, and never had Ciel been so grateful for the lights-out rule being strictly enforced; especially when Alois’ hand found it’s way to the bulge of his boxers and gave a gentle squeeze, just hard enough to elicit a choked moan from the teen. “I bet it hurts, you’re so turned on. Doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Ciel gasped, pressing his hips into the blonde’s touch and whining when his hand backed away from him. “Yes, it hurts.”

“And you want to come, don’t you?” Alois hummed delightedly, gently pushing back the strands of fallen, disheveled hair that had fallen onto Ciel’s sweat slicked forehead. Once again, the smaller male affirmed. With an eager nod, Ciel let his gaze linger on his roommate and subconsciously squeezed Alois’ waist with his thighs.

The blonde had to have sense the eagerness because no more than a second later was he pressing against Ciel again, fingers guiding his chin into the proper direction for another kiss. Ciel’s fingers tangled between the blonde tresses, fixing himself to the other as their lips moved in perfect rhythm together, molding as though they were fitted to exist against one another.

Lost in the perfect lightheadedness of the kiss, Ciel only vaguely registered when Alois began urging his boxers down his milky white thighs. With a gentle sound of approval, Ciel pulled his legs back so the garment could be removed, only to wrap them back around the other’s waist once he was left bare.

There was the small snap of a bottle opening and closing, and when Ciel looked to the source, he furrowed his eyebrows. “When the fuck did you buy lube?”

“Remember last night at the gas station? While I was buying mouthwash.” Though Ciel nods and says nothing else, he was amazed by the fact that Alois sounded so calm as he coated his fingers in gel from a gas station hygiene rack, with his naked, drunken roommate beneath him. _That figures, he’s not the one about to have something up his ass,_  Ciel crudely thought.

A slender finger prodded his opening and, despite his best efforts, Ciel tensed slightly as the digit eased inside of him. “Fuck,” he breathed, grasping onto his roommate’s bony shoulders, fingers dancing over the protruding curve. “That feels-”

“Weird, right?” The way he asked, the gentle yet amused tone of Alois’ voice was all too affectionate; it stole Ciel’s breath for a moment. _Don’t let that go to your head,_  he tried to think, but a simple thought was difficult to produce when Alois’ finger was stroking his inner walls so gently that it nearly felt good. _You’re in the middle of sex. Of course he’s going to be nice._

“Yeah,” Ciel finally answered with a nod as soon as he regained his composure. “It’s very strange, but there’s definite potential here. Maybe after-”

“No offense, but I’m kind of trying to prep you and listening to you talk like a school teacher reprimanding me for my grades isn’t exactly hot.” Alois interrupted, slowly urging a second finger to Ciel’s entrance and pressing it inside of him alongside the first. “Seriously, though, stop me if it starts feeling too weird.”

“Oh my god,” Ciel whined, digging his nails into Alois’ back. “Stop- Stop talking!”

The fingers inside of him began moving dexterously, though the blonde pointedly ignored Ciel’s demand. “You sound so desperate,” he cooed, curving his fingers in search of the other’s prostate. He’d began to make another remark, but found himself cut off as his fingertips nudged the sensitive gland and Ciel cried out almost too loudly. “Oh? Do you like when I touch you here?”

Once more, his fingers pressed against Ciel’s prostate and one of the hands previously grasping his body for purchase flew up to cover Ciel’s own mouth, muffling the frantic moan threatening to escape his lips. When he had no reply, Alois began to scissor his fingers, just hardly keeping out of reach of Ciel’s sweet spot. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” Ciel hissed through his fingers, working his hips back on Alois’ hand. “God, yes- fuck- I like it when you touch me there, so will you _kindly_ stop beating around the bush and- ah!”

Effectively silencing the teen’s babble, Alois began to thrust his fingers directly against his prostate. With each movement of his wrist soft, muffled moans came in reply, almost musically joining together to create a harmony Alois would have loved to put on a record.

A third finger was briefly added to the mix before Ciel began whispering hushed pleas, begging Alois to fuck him, to just _get inside of him already._

To Ciel, it took far too long for Alois to unbutton his pants and apply lubricant to his cock. Impatiently huffing, laying back against his pillow, Ciel watched each movement of Alois’ wrist with eager keenness. By the time he’d finally finished and spread Ciel’s thighs apart, the teen had already taken to lazily stroking himself, though he drew his hand back as he felt the blunt pressure of Alois’ head pressing against him. _It’s about damn time_ , he almost complained.

When Alois pushed into him, Ciel had to clench his teeth to avoid letting out a long, drawn out cry. Instead, he managed to control it down to a whimpered gasp followed by labored breathing as Alois stilled inside of him. He felt each beat of his racing heart right where he and Alois joined. It throbbed. It wasn’t until Alois’ arms were around his middle that Ciel realized he’d began clinging to the blonde, face buried into the crook of his neck.

“Are you alright?” he asked, and Ciel wanted to punch him; more than that, he wanted to cling tighter- and so he did.

“Hurts… Give me a second.”

He had to focus on something else besides the pain. He tried desperately to focus on the gentle stroking motions of Alois’ fingers at his side, or the gentle scent of vanilla and musk that he’d since come to associate with the blonde cradling him the way he’d cradled him the night of his asthma attack. After a long moment of forcing himself to relax, the throbbing dulls into a barely-there ache. “Move.”

For the slightest moment, Ciel felt guilty for being so authorative, but the thought was soon chased away as the other’s hips pulled back and then shallowly thrust back into him. With a whine, Ciel’s grip on Alois tightens considerably and he finds himself biting his lips together to muffle any noise, lest he wake up half the camp with his screaming.

_This feels so different than before,_  he silently thought to himself as Alois continued moving his hips. _Before, it felt good, especially when he hit my-_

Before the thought was finished, he remembered where it was that Alois hit to make him feel so good in the first place. Arching his back and rotating his hips, it doesn’t take much time until Alois thrusts into just the right spot once more, the same spot his fingers had pressed against and the same spot that had Ciel seeing stars. With a pleased moan, Ciel began rocking his hips, guiding them just so that Alois would thrust into him at a perfect angle.

From above him the blonde had started moaning lowly with each movement Ciel made, though he could hardly be sure if he generally sounded like that during sex or if he was doing the same as Ciel in not trying to wake their peers. In all honesty, with each thrust aimed directly at Ciel’s sweet spot he cared less and less about who he woke up.

The thought of waking someone, of someone rushing in to find them entangled in one another as Alois thrust into him without abandon- the thought was almost too much to bear. “Ah! Har- der, Alois,” Ciel breathily moaned, dragging his nails down the other’s shoulders. When the blonde complied, it earned an audible gasp of “don’t stop, don’t you _dare_  stop!” along with almost nonsensical profanities painted in pants and stifled grunts from both parties.

Finally the act of being filled again and again, repeatedly being forced open as his roommate stimulated his prostate a little harder each time, was bringing Ciel to a peak of pleasure. Something had to have told Alois- body language or the streams of precum leaking from the slit of his cock- because the blonde sat back on his heels and hoisted Ciel up so that he could bury himself deeper within the other.

“Alois!” Ciel gasped, one hand reaching up to grasp onto the mess of blonde locks while the other remained scratching desperately at the skin of the other’s back. In response, the blonde began lifting his hips to meet with each forced movement from Ciel. He’d lift the boy’s hips, only to forcibly slam them back down against his repeatedly, and if the drooling mess of a moaning teenager above him was anything to go by, the movement was enjoyable.

All at once, Ciel’s climax began building _too_ quickly and perhaps a little _too_ intensely because before he could demand that the other stroke him to completion, he was scrambling to warn him of the oncoming crescendo. “Alois, I’m going to- oh god, _god,_  Alois! A- ah!”

As he came, Ciel noticed quite a few things. In short, the first was that he’d momentarily forgotten his own name and elected to ignore the fact that he‘d never once forgotten Alois‘. Following that, he realized that the blonde’s hips sped up, and more importantly he’d noticed that when he came, he’d clung to Alois for dear life; but when Alois came, his hand grabbed the back of his neck and forced Ciel into a fervent, desperate kiss complete with teeth crashing together and girlish moans until he was spent.

Once they’d finally come down just enough to bask in the afterglow of their orgasms Ciel relaxed against the blonde, who pulled him to lie down. “I came inside,” he finally said, breaking the silence between the two. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” Ciel replied as he lifted his hips to remove the softening cock from inside of himself. Wincing at the movement, he situated back against Alois, curling into his side. “It’s extremely gross feeling.”

“I know, I’m versatile.”

“You’re such a shit,” Ciel replied, yawning and shutting his tired, dry eyes, laying his head on the other’s chest.

“Yes, but I’m a shit that loves you,”

“Hm,” Ciel wondered if Alois realized exactly what he’d just said or if he was too tired to catch it. He also vaguely wonders why it doesn’t alarm him as much as it should. “You give your love far too easily, then.”

Neither of them are able to keep themselves awake, and the conversation ends with Alois‘ reply. “You know,” he says groggily, nestling his face into Ciel’s hair. “I feel like you’re not the first person to tell me that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this entire thing is roughly based off of an rp with my son (Sky, Watanuki, actual Ciel) and it originally started out as a sebaciel, but then we were like "man can those two smooch too" and when we decided to turn it into a fic I was like "there's already so many sebaciel fics" and here we are. in other words, expect tons of homoerotic undertones but no actual canon gayness between Sebastian and Ciel. Also, there's going to be so many ridiculous chapter titles. Thanks for reading!


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